A Day in the Life: Drarry Oneshots
by HowDracoGotHisGrooveBack
Summary: A little collection of Drarry one shots- Most are funny, some not. Featuring a boomerang, a furious Lucius Malfoy and loads of whipped cream- not in that order, though . Read and review! Warnings: Slash. Rated T for safety.
1. All right

**Hey all**

**This is a little collection of Oneshots I'll be posting. I write them randomly as and when they come to me, so this is pretty much a work in progress.**

**Not all of them are drabbles as they're probably all more than a hundred words...but they're still pretty short.**

**Hope you enjoy them **

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><p><strong>All Right<strong>

Harry stared down at the prone figure in front of him. The blonde lay on a make shift stretcher, his breathing shallow and his eyes closed. He was mumbling incoherently, and that was the only way Harry knew he was conscious.

He had barged his way in the Healing Room at The Order Headquarters, despite Madame Pomfrey's protests. He needed to see for himself that Malfoy was all right.

Draco remained still, and Harry swallowed and then spoke to him. "Hey" His voice was gentle, almost a whisper.

Draco didn't reply and Harry ploughed on "I need to ask you a few questions, just to check if you're still...if you're all right. That's okay, yeah?"

Draco groaned, and Harry took that as a yes.

"Good. What's your name?"

The blonde mumbled and Harry repeated his question, trying not to let fear into his tone.

"Dra...co" he replied finally. His voice was choked and raw, but even in his not so lucid state he stubbornly refused to add Malfoy to his name. Harry suppressed a smile.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Got hexed…that crazy bitch…" He trailed off, waving his hand slightly- as if trying to bat away the annoying questions.

Harry nodded approvingly. So far, so good. Just one more question and he would be convinced. He just needed to know that Draco was all right.

"Do you… know who I am?"

The blonde opened one bleary eye and glared at him in blessedly familiar annoyance. "Harry Potter," he replied with a long suffering drawl "AKA The Saviour. The Golden Boy. Scarhead. The Gryffindor Git. Worst Seeker Ever. The Boy Who Won't Stop Asking Me Bloody Questions! Good enough for you, Pothead? Or do you want it in bloody writing?"

Harry tried and failed to suppress the grin that broke out on his face.

Thank Merlin the prat was all right.

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><p><strong>Reviews would be great as always! Please do review if you like my work. Cheers, Alex <strong>


	2. Return

**Return**

Harry watched with a mingling sense of compassion and pity as his boyfriend stood out in their front yard, wide eyed and staring. Waiting so patiently. So… hopefully.

Harry twitched in sympathy and approached the blonde. His grey eyes were trained on the horizon, his slender neck craning as he watched, ever vigilant. For something that would never return. Harry smiled ruefully. Draco wasn't the kind to give up.

The brunette sighed and slipped an arm around the other's slim waist. "Love, it's time to go inside now." His voice was gentle but firm.

Draco turned to him, his eyes reflecting such sorrow that Harry sighed and wrapped him up in his arms, circling his back comfortingly.

"It should have come back," Draco mumbled miserably, melting into Harry's embrace.

"I know, love. I know," Harry soothed, as he led his boyfriend back into the house.

Honestly, he was going to murder Dean for giving Draco that boomerang.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	3. If Anyone Asks

**If Anyone Asks**

Harry flung a well timed Stunning Curse at the black robed figure and watched in satisfaction as yet another Death Eater collapsed. He was just about to fire again, when he was cursed from behind.

As he collapsed on the floor, he gulped as the looming figure of McNair grinned nastily over him. _Not good._

"This is it, Potter!" he snarled maliciously "Say good bye to…"

Suddenly, there was a loud _thunk _of some sort and Harry stared with bated breath as McNair's face became blissfully blank. The next second, the brunette just managed to roll out of the way and avoid the Death Eater as he collapsed messily on the floor, almost on top of him.

Before he could react, he was being hoisted up and dusted off by a familiar set of hands. He gazed at his Auror partner first with gratitude, and then with sheer disbelief.

"Stop gaping, Potter."

Harry shook his head, finally trusting himself enough to speak. "Just for my information of course, but did you just knock out one of the Most Wanted Death Eaters in the country with a …frying pan?"

Draco shrugged and chucked the dented pan away with a careless smirk. "If anyone asks, it was a Crucio," he said. "Now help me get this trash to Azkaban."

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><p><strong>What can I say, I'm a Tangled fan :P Reviews, please!<strong>


	4. Protective

**A longer one shot from me :)**

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><p><strong>Protective<strong>

Harry stared down at the girl blocking his way with ill concealed annoyance. "Do you mind, Parkinson? I'm late for Charms."

"I'm sure Flitwick can make an exception for the Saviour," she said with a delicate sneer. Harry raised an eyebrow as she slipped her arm into his and led him down a deserted hallway. "I need a word if you don't mind, Potter."

Before Harry could tell her that he did mind- quite a lot, actually- she had stopped and turned to stare intently at him. "I understand that you and Draco are… together" Straight to the point, then.

Harry nodded. Draco had mentioned something about telling his friends that they'd been dating. Harry hadn't really seen a problem with that. Now however, he wasn't so sure...

"Look Parkinson," he began "I love Draco. He's…"

"So you say," she interrupted smoothly, flicking her hair back. She stepped closer to him until she had him backed up against a wall. Harry swallowed. For a little girl who barely came up to his shoulder, she could look damn scary when the occasion called for it.

"I just want you to understand something Potter," she hissed, pointing a manicured finger at his chest "Draco is one of my best friends. I want to see him happy and apparently you seem to do the trick. But if you do _anything _to hurt him, anything that causes him pain, you better pray I don't find out. Because I _will_ hunt you down and make you pay. Are we clear, Wonder Boy?"

Harry gulped. "Crystal" he managed.

She flashed him a million galleon smile, suddenly all sunshine and rainbows again. "Good. I'll see you around, Potter"

Harry nodded hastily, watching her retreating back with relief. Merlin, and he thought _his_ friends were protective.

He was barely out in the corridor again when he was accosted yet again. Blaise Zabini slipped out of nowhere, walking smoothly beside him. "Afternoon, Potter," the Italian greeted him politely.

Harry sighed wearily. "Look, if you're here to threaten me about Draco, I've already seen Parkin…"

"Threaten you?" Blaise repeated incredulously. "Potter, you wound me! I was just coming over to congratulate you. You and Draco are a wonderful couple, and I couldn't be happier for the two of you"

Harry blinked. "Oh," he said finally "Thank you?"

"You're quite welcome," Blaise smirked, clapping him on the back "But since you bring it up, of course you understand I have some… concerns" His grip on Harry's shoulder tightened imperceptibly "Draco is family, you see- like a younger brother to me, as it were. So naturally, it would…upset me if he were hurt in anyway."

Before Harry could respond, the Slytherin had turned to face him – a dark glint in his gaze. "I would hope that you wouldn't want me upset, Potter. Bad things happen to people who upset me. I would hate for something…unfortunate to happen to you. That _would_ be a shame, no?"

Harry stared back, unsure what to say to that. Finally he managed a weak nod. Apparently it was good enough. Blaise smiled genially and clapped him on the back again. "I'm so glad we had this talk. You have a good day, mate" And with that, he sauntered off.

Harry took a couple of calming breaths, and resolutely made his way to class. He was late, he was getting detention for sure, he had just received a shake down from the Wicked Witch of the West _and_ The Godfather in quick succession and he was in no state of mind to…

"Potter!"

Harry could have screamed in frustration as he saw Theo Nott walking towards him. "Potter," he began "I need to …"

"No you don't!" Harry snapped, finally losing his last ounce of patience "I need to talk to _you_! Now you listen carefully and if you say one word- Merlin help me, I will throw you off the Tower and then jump myself! I love Draco, do you understand? I. Love. Him. I will _never_ hurt him! Never! He is _everything_ to me, and I would die before I let anything happen to him! Are you happy now? Does that satisfy you damned Slytherins? Right. Good bye then!"

A flabbergasted Theo stared as the fuming Gryffindor stormed off. "But…" he mumbled half to himself, "I just wanted to borrow a quill."

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><p><strong>Reviews and feedback!<strong>


	5. A Good Day

**A Good Day**

The Boy Who Lived scowled as he knocked impatiently on the door of his flat. The door remained resolutely closed and Harry suppressed a growl. What was Draco playing at?

Today had _not_ been a good day. Work had been an absolute nightmare. Three raids in the last month, and no traces or suspects whatsoever. Then Ron and Hermione had had one of their famous rows and he had somehow been dragged in the middle. Then the Chudley Cannons had had the absolute gall to go and lose the series. And now to top it all, he was locked out of his own flat! _Not_ a good day.

Finally, he gave up and apparated inside. As soon as he did, he wished he had stayed out. The place was an absolute mess. The dishes were piled up in the sink, there were clothes and toys strewn about everywhere and…was that scribbling on the wall? Why yes, yes it was.

Harry's glare became more pronounced as he marched in, determined to give the boys a piece of his mind. He nearly tripped over a train set and swore. This day just kept getting worse, if such a thing was even possible.

"Draco," he announced his presence, walking into their bedroom. "What in the world…" His voice trailed off as he took in the sight in front of him.

Draco was fast asleep, his blonde hair falling over his face and framing an expression so peaceful that Harry almost held his breath so as not to disturb him. He was lying on his side, with an arm tucked under a pillow. His other arm was curved protectively around a sleeping Teddy, gently cradling the small boy. Teddy's small face was buried in the crook of Draco's elbow as they slept, oblivious to the world around them.

Harry watched them for a minute or so, trying to ignore the catch in his throat. Then he shut the door gently, settling in beside Draco and slipping an arm around his lover.

As he felt sleep take over, only one thought remained.

Today was the best day of his life.

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><p><strong>I can't say this enough. If you like, review. Seriously, the button is right there.<strong>


	6. Killing Curse

**So this will be my last oneshot for this year, seeing that I'm going on vacation tomorrow. I will be continuing with this in January though, I know I can't stay away from Fanfiction that long :(**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. I love you guys :)**

**So enjoy this drabble, and of course Happy Holidays!**

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><p><strong>Killing Curse<strong>

"You used the Killing Curse? The _Killing_ Curse?"

"It was self defence, Potter!"

"Draco, it wasn't going to hurt you!"

"Somehow, I beg to differ."

"But…"

"Look, when _you_ have a hideous one eyed beast rattling and…and _hissing_ at you, you're free to do whatever the fuck you like! It attacked me and I only did what the situation called for, so stop bloody judging me!"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but one look at his furious and- let's face it - slightly freaked out boyfriend and he decided otherwise. Instead, he approached the blonde who was still shaking slightly and gathered him up, kissing his forehead affectionately.

"How about I do the laundry from now on?" he bargained reasonably.

As Draco nodded and burrowed further into his arms, Harry grinned and mentally added 'new washing machine' to his ever growing shopping list.

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><p><strong>Reviews make a great Christmas present. Just saying... :D<strong>


	7. Whipped Cream

**Happy New Year, all :)**

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><p><strong>Whipped Cream<strong>

Ron would never understand why they were always out of whipped cream. Every sodding time he had a chocolate sundae ready and on the go, he would open the fridge and find himself very whipped cream-less. It was a travesty is what it was!

His roommate was obviously the first suspect, but even Harry's massive sweet tooth couldn't be going through three cans a week! Then _who _was eating all the cream?

Suddenly, Ron's eyes lit up with understanding. Obviously, Harry's ferret of a boyfriend had been helping himself to their stash! That little wanker!

Scowling, the redhead drew himself to his full height, fully meaning to march down to Harry's room and give that Malfoy prat a piece of his mind! Seriously, just because Harry was loopy over the git didn't mean he could eat his own weight in whipped cream! Armed with such self righteous thoughts, the youngest Weasley boy marched down their hallway towards Harry's bedroom.

"Oi Malfoy!" he snapped, flinging the door open. "You and I have a bone to…AAAAAAAAH!"

"Weasley! For the love of Merlin, can't you _knock_?"

"Ron! Get the fuck out! What's the hell's wrong with you!"

"My eyes! It BURNS!"

"GET OUT!"

Ron raced out of the room as if rabid dogs were chasing him, screaming about horror and trauma and oh the humanity and never eating whipped cream again.

Draco Malfoy stared after his retreating form, with a smug look of self satisfaction. Then he locked the door with a quick spell and returned to the pleasurable task of licking his lover clean.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	8. Forgiven

**Forgiven**

"You realise he's going to kill me," the blonde muttered sullenly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "If you're sincere enough, I'm sure we can persuade him to leave you in one piece," he replied. Draco made a strangled noise in his throat and Harry grabbed his shoulder firmly and propelled him forward before he could run.

"You wanted to apologise to everyone you wronged, Draco," he said firmly "This is the place to start."

Draco gulped as he saw the dark figure in the distance. This was a mistake. He was going to _die_. "Harry?" he whimpered slightly.

"Be brave, love," the brunette smiled reassuringly. "He's more forgiving than you think." Praying to all the gods he could think of that Harry was right, Draco took a tentative step forward towards…_him_.

"Hello there," he said finally, announcing his presence.

Intelligent, dark eyes turned to stare at him, impassive and neutral. They scanned him, as if looking right through him. But there was no other reaction.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," the blonde muttered to himself. A supercilious cock of the head was the only response he got, and he sighed resignedly deciding to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"I wanted to… apologise for what I did to you. Well _almost_ did to you, I suppose. I wasn't the best person back then and…well, I know what I did was terrible. I'm sorry. Really I am and I just…oh bollocks… do you think you can forgive me?"

His ridiculously inarticulate speech was met with stony silence. Draco gulped as… _he_ took a step towards him. The blonde felt the hair on his neck rise. His heart was in his throat. Seconds passed, feeling like hours…

And then the hippogriff bowed its head in gracious acceptance and Draco's terror turned to relief. He was forgiven.


	9. Outrun

**Outrun**

Harry couldn't remember ever having run so fast in his life. And between Triwizard Tournaments, giant spiders and a certain Dark Lord, his running resume was an impressive one.

"Is he gaining on us?" he gasped, jumping across a huge hedge in his hurry. A group of white peacocks protested with shrill squawks as the two boys stampeded across the grounds, nearly trampling them in the process.

"Why don't you stop and check?" his boyfriend retorted as he sprinted alongside Harry. Draco Malfoy was the only person he knew who could pull off condescending and sarcastic while running for his life.

"_You_ wanted to tell your father that we were dating!" Harry panted furiously, as he tried to keep up.

"In a letter!" Draco snapped back "_You're_ the one who insisted we do it in person! Now we've got a furious ex Death Eater chasing us through the Manor grounds! I hope you realise he fully intends to live up to his threat of eviscerating us with his bare hands!"

"All right, all right!" the brunette snapped, increasing his speed. He looked back warily. Lucius was in hot pursuit. For an old man with alleged 'war wounds', he could run surprisingly fast when the occasion called for it.

"Do you think we can outrun him?" Harry asked the blonde.

"I don't need to outrun him" Draco shot back "I just need to outrun you!"

And with that, the traitor took off at the speed of light.

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><p><strong>So yeah, I borrowed that line from Big Bang Theory. It just screamed Draco to me, and I couldn't resist :P<strong>

**Reviews, please!**


	10. Relax

**Relax**

The blonde sat cross legged, among the scattering of books and slips of parchments muttering the ingredients for Felix Felicis under his breath at an alarmingly rapid pace. Meanwhile, his right hand worked continuously and furiously on notes for a completely different subject- scratching out previous notes, rewriting them and discarding them all over again. His hair was tousled and there was an ink stain across his pale cheek.

Harry would have laughed at the sight, if it weren't for the dark circles around Malfoy's eyes, the stacks of coffee cups strewn across the floor and the cigarette dangling loosely from his lips.

The blonde took a drag, and the dull red flicker at the end of the cigarette flared to life as his lungs filled with smoke. Harry's gaze darkened. Somehow, the idea of Malfoy slowly killing himself was not as appealing as he had thought it would be.

"I never picked you for a nerd. Should I be informing Hermione that she's been dethroned?"

That comment made Draco look up. Harry grinned as grey eyes narrowed at him, a deathly glare shot in his general direction. "That was low," Draco informed him with a sneer. "And now I've lost my place, thank you very fucking much. Moonstone, essence of mandrake, stirred anti clockwise during the third…no, the fourth...fuck all! The _third_ phase of the…bloody hell Potter, what's your problem!"

Harry had taken advantage of the Slytherin's distraction and plucked the cigarette neatly from his lips. "This," he said waving the offending object in front of the infuriated blonde. "_This_ is my problem." He stubbed it out and chucked it away carelessly, watching Draco's gaze follow it as it skittered across the floor. The blonde seemed unsure what to do next. Finally, he settled for sneering and pulling another cigarette out of his pack. He had no sooner than placed it on his lips, when it was taken from him. Again!

"Stop it!" he snarled halfway between furious and frustrated, hating the way his voice sounded choked. Any other time, he would have sneered at Potter's Gryffindor do-goodish behaviour but he was tired and had close to thirty hours of schoolwork before the NEWTS _and_ that research paper and Merlin's pants, he just needed a fucking fag!

In a petulant fit, he reached for a third but Potter snatched the pack from his hand. This was too much for the overwrought boy to handle. He lunged back tackling Harry, howling and snarling about Gryffindor arseholes, and just wanting a smoke and why wouldn't Potter leave him the fuck alone and anything else he could think of. He must have been more tired than he thought, because the Gryffindor turned the tables fairly easily, pinning him on his back with his hands holding him down by the wrists. Draco cursed and struggled, but he was held down too firmly.

"Malfoy, stop it!" Potter said forcefully, trying not to think about various other scenarios that involved straddling Draco Malfoy. _Not_ the time. A swift kick to his thigh effectively ended his distraction and he glared at the still writhing boy. "You're acting like a lunatic. Stop squirming, you prat! I'm trying to help!"

"I don't _want_ your help!" Malfoy shouted "I want my damn smokes! Give them back, you tosser!"

"No. You're killing yourself over a stupid test, and its making me sick. I'll let you up when you promise to stop smoking. You don't need it."

"Yes, I do! I need to smoke or I can't fucking relax! Now let me up before…"

The rest of his words were a garbled mess on account of Potter shoving a tongue down his throat. Draco squeaked in surprise as Potter's lips moved skilfully over his, soft but firm. The hands that had pinned them down moved to cup his face and Draco let his own hands wander across Potter's back, all thoughts of NEWTS and cigarettes and research papers completely driven from his mind.

Finally, Potter broke away looking down at him with a slight grin. His thumb moved across Draco's cheek, removing the ink smudges. "There are better ways to relax," he informed the slightly dazed Slytherin, before releasing him and helping him up.

Draco stared back, finally managing a small smile of his own. The pack of cigarettes remained forgotten on the floor.

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><p><strong>Reviews and feedback, please :) <strong>

**Cheers**


	11. Jealous

**Jealous**

Blaise sprawled back on his lounge chair, mentally debating whether or not to swivel around. Then, deciding that it might be a little too evil villainish he turned a bored yet observant eye to the other patrons of the exclusive Wizard club. What he saw made his eyes widen a bit. He would have rubbed his hands with glee if that too, hadn't been so evil villainish.

Draco Malfoy was chatting with a fit Quidditch playing sort. He was a good looking chap, Blaise thought. Mussed hair, blue eyes and a cheeky boyish grin. He was clearly dropping hints at Draco, but the pretty blonde seemed determined to just stick to talking.

This situation didn't really interest Blaise all that much. Draco had men falling over him all the time. No, what was _really_ interesting about this particular encounter was the fact that the couple was being watched very closely by somebody. Somebody with blazing green eyes and a glare that could cut through glass.

Oh, this was going to be _good_.

"They look great together, don't they?" he quipped cheerfully approaching his target.

Potter's gaze broke away from the blonde and his companion and fixed on the Italian. A lesser man would have quailed at the fury in Potter's eyes but then this was Blaise Zabini. "Well Potter?" he prodded cheerfully. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Potter said nothing but his eyes narrowed menacingly as Quidditch boy slipped an arm around Draco's waist. Blaise upped the ante a little. "Of course, Draco does have a terrible time keeping a steady bloke. All those men just _throwing_ themselves at him. But I suppose you can't blame them, can you? I mean, _look_ at him. Merlin, if he wasn't my best mate…"

By now, Potter's hand was gripping his glass so tightly that it was starting to crack a bit. His eyes were fixed on the blonde, and one could almost see the sparks flying. His jaw was clenched so tightly that Blaise could hear his teeth grinding. The Slytherin carried on his relentless prattle. Just a matter of time now-after all, Potter was hardly the temperance and fortitude sort.

"I wonder if they've started shagging yet. Yes, I think they look like a couple of people who just did the quick and nasty in a cloakroom. Wouldn't you say, Potter? I mean, Draco is _obviously_ a bottom. Bet he's noisy too. You think he moaned his name out loud? Oh I _bet_ he…"

That last bit did it. Potter moved so quickly that Blaise could have sworn that he apparated. The next thing he saw was Quidditch Boy going down with a groan and a sickening crunch, courtesy a nasty left hook by said Potter. Draco stared for a whole ten seconds before turning to the Gryffindor with a 'what the hell' look. Potter seemed to be in no mood for eloquent discussions. He grabbed the slender Slytherin by the shoulders, proceeding to kiss him thoroughly before hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and apparating away.

Blaise chuckled as the other patrons of the club stared in silence, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. The Slytherin merely returned to his previous spot, still grinning.

He had some hand rubbing and chair swivelling to do.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please<strong>


	12. Mornings with Malfoy

**Hey :)**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, guys :)**

**Here's another little drabble...enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Mornings with Malfoy<strong>

Harry smiled as the warm sunshine streamed into his room. He stretched languidly and sat up, refreshed and happy. Whistling a tune, he brushed, showered and unsuccessfully attempted to comb his hair. Then he went downstairs to see to breakfast. He was just in the middle of frying up some eggs when something blonde and cranky shuffled into the kitchen.

"Coffee," it demanded imperiously.

"Some people say good morning," Harry retorted as the Slytherin slumped against the counter, peering suspiciously into the frying pan. Then he shook his head stubbornly, tousling his hair even more- if such a thing was possible. "Coffee," he snapped again, as if demanding the Elixir of Life- which for Malfoy – it probably was. He held out a mug and tapped Harry's shoulder repeatedly with it for emphasis. The Gryffindor rolled his eyes.

"I heard you the first time. Merlin, is that all you can say? Do you want eggs?"

"_Coffee_!" he bellowed and Harry bit back a laugh. His roommate was really not a morning person. He ruffled Draco's hair, ignoring the growl of protest and set up a pot of coffee for his Highness. By the time he had turned, Malfoy had already staked claim on the bigger egg and crunchier toast. And he was lounging in Harry's chair, the great prat.

"I don't suppose you're going to say thank you?" he demanded, slightly annoyed. The blonde sneered and shovelled toast into his mouth. Harry winced. Why he'd been under the impression that Draco had pristine table manners was beyond him. He really was a piece of work in the mornings, and frankly it pissed off the Gryffindor something awful. He sat and glared at the fast emptying plate while Draco continued to guzzle. Mornings with Malfoy sucked, he decided.

"Here, you pillock," he muttered a few minutes later, handing Draco a steaming cup of coffee. "Happy now?" His good mood from the morning was ruined and he was going to sulk now, if no one minded. He buried himself behind the _Prophet_, ignoring his poor excuse for a roommate for as long as he possibly could.

Malfoy took a sip of his sainted caffeine and sighed as an expression of complete bliss took over his face. He stared into his mug, and then at Harry who was still hidden behind his _Prophet_. Then he got up and walked over to the Gryffindor, knelt down beside him and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks, Potter," he said softly.

"W-what for?" Harry blurted, completely taken aback.

"For putting up with me," he replied. With another soft kiss- this time to Harry's lips- Draco got up and left, coffee still in hand.

Harry stared after him in a slight daze, touching his lips where the Slytherin had kissed him.

Maybe, mornings with Malfoy weren't so bad after all.

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><p><strong>Hey lovely people :) Review please!<strong>


	13. Pets

**Pets**

"Potter, get that _thing_ out of here!" The blonde was on the verge of hysterical and his face was flushed scarlet- a considerable feat for someone with Draco's skin tone. Any sane man would have considered that enough reason to just let this one slide.

Harry Potter however, was not one to back down. He loved Draco- more than life itself- but a man is entitled to some freedom and damn it, he was putting his foot down! "Ivy is not a thing!" he said firmly, letting his pretty little purchase slither through his fingers and resolutely ignoring Draco's look of undisguised revulsion "She's a common variety garden snake and absolutely _awesome_! And she stays!"

"Potter, I swear to Merlin- either _it_ goes, or I go!"

…

"POTTER!"

"I'm thinking!"

"Get it out! You know I have a mortal fear of snakes and…"

"A mortal fear of_ snakes_? Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds? You're a sodding Slytherin. This is your house _mascot_!"

In hindsight, Harry should have known that glint in Malfoy's eye meant something very, very bad was about to happen. Nevertheless, the naive man allowed himself to feel smug and triumphant as Draco muttered "This isn't over, Potter," and stormed off, apparently defeated.

_A few days later…_

"Holy mother of Merlin! Draco, what the FUCK did you do? What IS that?"

"If you get to keep my house mascot, I get to keep yours! Not so much fun when it happens to you, is it Scarhead? Down, Aslan! "

Harry deigned not to answer as he ran for his life.

With a bemused sort of horror, he wondered what blithering idiot had seen fit to sell his lunatic boyfriend a full grown African lion.

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><p><strong>Reviews and feedback would be amazing. Authors need love too! :(<strong>


	14. The Lion King

**Lion King**

"This obsession with Muggle moving pictures is bordering on unhealthy, Potter" Draco drawled as he balanced an oversized bowl of popcorn on their rickety coffee table.

"They're called movies, and it's my turn to pick what we do tonight," Harry informed him loftily. Last time Draco had picked what to do on their stay at home night, they'd played strip Exploding Snap until Harry had been left with just his shoes and underwear. It wasn't until much later that he realised that Draco had been cheating.

He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or disturbed.

Nevertheless, it was his turn and they were going to watch movies and munch popcorn like normal people for once. He rummaged through his CDs until he found the perfect one- an all time classic. Grinning, he shucked it at Draco.

"What's the Lion King?" the blonde demanded holding the disc at arms length as if expecting it to bite.

"It's a good one, I promise" Harry said, reaching over and taking it from him.

"Oh perfect. Its one of those stupid _car-toon_ things isn't it? What, we can't watch something with real people in it? Even if they _are_ muggles…"

"Oh, just shut it and watch the film," Harry snapped.

"Fine" Draco muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and settling down for an epic pout "But I won't like it"

Harry ignored him and turned to the telly, mouthing along to the learnt by heart lyrics of The Circle of Life and otherwise enjoying the awesomeness that was Disney. Mercifully, the prat was quiet for the rest of the film.

A couple hours later, the ending credits rolled and Harry turned off the TV.

"Now was that really so bad?" he asked.

"W-whatever, Potter."

Harry stared as Draco rubbed his swollen eyes and sniffed. The urge to grin was so strong but with a superhuman effort he managed to keep a straight face. "I take it you liked the film?" he asked teasingly.

"It was brilliant, okay? Now stop bothering me!"

"Are you crying?"

"No!" Draco snapped, rubbing his eyes vigorously "I just have something in my eye."

"Its okay, you know," Harry smiled, sitting next to him and patting his thigh. "I cry when I watch it too sometimes."

Draco stared at him with watery eyes. "You cry when the lion dies?"

Harry rolled his eyes and slung an arm around his emotional boyfriend. "Draco, _everyone_ cries when he dies. It's a pivotal moment in the film."

The blonde nodded. "I know," he mumbled. "It was just so…you know?"

Harry smiled. "I do," he said sincerely, placing a kiss on the blonde's cheek.

Draco sighed mournfully. "After all that amazing planning, all that brilliant scheming… and all because of that whiny _prat_ of a nephew! Oh Scar, why did you have to die?"

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	15. Closet

**Closet:**

Pansy Parkinson raised an elegant eyebrow as she crossed the threshold of Grimmauld Place, only to be greeted by the sounds of violent banging and Potter yelling his head off. Absently, she wondered why she insisted on subscribing to the Quibbler for a scrap of entertainment, when all she had to do was Floo here. As the shouting reached a new decibel level, she smirked and sauntered up the stairs towards the sounds of inordinate chaos- classic Potter.

"Surprise me, Hero," she drawled, stepping leisurely into the master bedroom. Potter was standing in front of a weather beaten wardrobe, banging against it heatedly. Pansy tried not to wince at the sight of that atrocity he called hair. Someday she would get used to it- if only for Draco's sake. "What, may I ask are you doing?" she tried again, as Potter seemed to have forgotten all social etiquette in favour of assaulting innocent furniture.

"Draco's in the closet!" was his terse reply.

She raised the second eyebrow. "I hardly think so. He pretty much outed himself when I caught the two of you doing unspeakable things in the Prefects Bathroom in sixth year."

"Thank you for putting those pictures up in Potions Class, by the way. And you know what I meant. Your crazy friend has gone and locked himself in _this_ closet and. Won't. Sodding. Come. Out!" He punctuated each word with a bang to the door, but all he got for his trouble was a "Fuck off, Potter!" from the depths of the closet.

"Come on, Draco!" Potter whined, resting his head against the locked door "You've been in there for hours! Whatever it was I did, I'm sorry okay? Will you please, _please_ just come out so we can talk about this?"

"I have _nothing_ to say to you!" replied the closet.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! If I have to break down this door, I will!"

"Potter," Pansy cut in "I may be wrong, but that's probably not the best way to calm him down."

"You have a better idea?" he snapped. She rolled her eyes at him and stepped up to the closet, rapping it smartly. "Dray, sweetie?" she cooed, in a voice that one would probably use to sooth a frightened baby deer "Do you want to open this door so we can talk?"

"Pans? That you?" a voice enquired hopefully.

"It's me, hun. Now open this door and budge over and we'll fix whatever stupid thing Potter did, yeah?" she assured, ignoring the Gryffindor's scowl.

The closet seemed to be contemplating its options. Finally a series of clicks were heard as the locking spells were removed and the door opened just a fraction, allowing Pansy to slip inside. The door banged shut again and Harry was left behind in the silence, gaping. Finally he scrambled up to press his ear to the door.

"Potter, do you mind? I can _hear_ you trying to keep quiet!" Pansy's voice snapped and Harry hurriedly removed himself and sat down on the bed sulkily. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to figure out _why_ his prickly boyfriend was so angry.

He had just rejected Possible Reason Number 374 when the locks clicked and- Harry's eyes widened at the sight- Draco emerged. He looked scruffy and cranky and pissy- basically like someone who'd spent the better half of his morning in a coat closet. He shot Harry a dark look before slinking off to the kitchen. Harry heaved a sigh of relief, resolving to give the blonde a few solid hours before he approached him again.

His attention snapped back to the closet as Parkinson emerged, smoothening down imaginary wrinkles in her silk dress as she did. Before he could thank her, or even ask her if she knew what was going on, she walked over to him and smacked him on the side of his head.

"For the record, Potter- the correct answer to "Do these pants make me look fat?" is always, _always_ "No. No, they do not." "

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	16. Blank

**Warnings: A bit of swearing...for part of it. ;)**

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><p><strong>Blank<strong>

"But Andromeda, it wasn't my _fault_! Draco did it! He's always…"

Draco scowled as he walked into the flat only to be greeted by the sounds of Harry selling him out to what he gathered was his pissed off Aunt Andromeda. Well, like hell! Switching to War Mode in an instant, he walked into the living room.

"I didn't fucking do it!" Draco protested heatedly "Whatever he says is a motherfucking lie! Oh, hi Teddy…" he added, catching sight of his cousin. Teddy grinned and turned his hair blonde as a form of greeting. "Potter's a sodding liar!" Draco repeated, as Andromeda groaned and buried her face in a slim hand.

"I told you!" Harry grinned triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger at Draco "He does it! It's all _his_ fucking fault!" Then he gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. Andromeda raised an eyebrow.

"So I see" she said dryly.

"Hang on," Draco cut in, a tad confused now "What did we do?"

Andromeda turned to him looking less than happy. "It seems that Teddy has picked up some…colourful language. From _you_ two."

Draco scoffed dismissively. "That's ridiculous. You can't accuse us of _that. _He could have picked up a few, random words from anywhere. Just about _anywhere_…"

"Potter, you randy bastard!" Teddy cut in enthusiastically.

Damn it.

"You can probably tell… but that one was Draco's fault," Harry muttered, earning a glare from his boyfriend.

"Draco scream my fucking name, you little bitch…"

"Put a sock in it, Teddy!" Draco snapped, his face the exact shade of the Gryffindor House Crest. Andromeda looked slightly ill herself.

"Right well, moving on," she managed, glaring sternly at the guilty young men "If you two can't trust yourselves to control your language in front of an impressionable young boy, then clearly sterner measures must be adopted."

"But I _don't_ swear that much!" Harry protested "_He_ does. He's the bad influence!"

"What?" Draco interrupted incredulously "You little wanker, you always swear! You're the one who bloody went and…"

"Who're you calling a wanker, you fucking prick? I just…"

"_Gentlemen_!"

They clamped their mouths shut, turning back towards the furious witch. Without so much as a warning, she flipped out her wand and muttered a quick spell. Draco blinked as he felt the familiar tingle of magic washing over him.

"What did you do?" he demanded, checking himself over. He didn't feel different…

"Just a little childproofing," Andromeda smiled evilly "Go on then, try to swear."

"You're blanking right I'm going to swear!" Draco started off "Where do you blanking get off…"

Oh.

"Oh _blank_," groaned Harry catching up as well. "How long does this blanking thing last?"

"Until you two have learnt your lesson" she informed them primly. "Now I expect Teddy back at two. Have a fine day, boys!" And with that she was gone, leaving behind two less than cheerful men glaring mutinously at each other.

"Well I hope you're blanking happy, Potter!"

"Oh _sure_, I'm just a blanking ray of sunshine!"

"You're such a blanking blank!"

"Oh, suck my blank!"

Draco shot him a death glare. "You are _so_ not getting blanked tonight!"

"Whatever" Harry shrugged dismissively "I blanked off this morning."

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><p><strong>Reviews would be nice, as always :)<strong>


	17. Cry

**Cry:**

Harry cursed as he ran up the stairs of his building, taking two at a time. It wasn't until he'd reached the door of his flat and was fumbling for the keys that he realised that he was a bloody wizard and could have apparated. So he cursed some more, and then apparated inside.

Appearing within his living room, he wondered with trepidation what was waiting for him on the other side of the hall. He was two hours late and if he knew his temperamental boyfriend, that meant he would either be greeted by a blunt, heavy and airborne object heading straight for his skull or a tantrum that would make his showdown with Voldemort look like a Christmas party. Not the happiest of prospects. But he was a Gryffindor, and hence known for doing brave, suicidal things. So he took a deep breath and walked through.

"Before you say anything, I just want to point out that it was all Ron's fault and…" his excuses died in his throat as he took in the sight in front of him. Draco was sitting hunched at the dining table, wiping his swollen, red eyes with his hand. He sniffed slightly, and Harry felt his heart crack. He was crying. He'd made Draco cry. Oh Merlin, not this. He'd take the life threatening hissy fit over _this_. Draco sniffed and a tear trickled down his cheek. The guilt nearly choked Harry. He envisioned a neon arrow bearing the words 'World's Worst Boyfriend' pointing straight at his forehead.

"Love?" he managed, approaching the overwrought blonde carefully.

Draco looked up, apparently just noticing him. "Harry!" he exclaimed, wiping at the tears hurriedly "I didn't hear you come in. Dinner's just about ready. I…"

"Draco, stop" Harry pleaded, kneeling before the blonde and taking his pale, slender hand carefully in between his own. "I'm so sorry" he said, running his thumb along the sharp ridges of Draco's fingers.

"What?" the blonde blinked, and a few more tears fell on Harry's hand. He had never felt so guilty in his life. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he blurted remorsefully "I'm so sorry, love. So very sorry. I just got caught up with Ron again. You know what he's like when he wants a drink. I lost track of time and I know I have no excuse and…"

"Harry, hang on. You don't …"

"I know, I know. I'm a lout and inconsiderate and I don't deserve you. Please Draco, you have to know that I never meant to make you cry. You don't know what it does to me to see you like this…"

"Harry, will you listen to me a minute? I just…"

"I promise I'll do anything to make it up to you. I swear. Just name it. I…"

"For Merlin's sake, Harry! I just…anything?"

"Anything" Harry confirmed fervently.

"So you'll… take me to dinner?" Draco asked, sceptically testing the waters. "Some place horrendously expensive? You know to… make it up to me?"

"All week if I must," Harry smiled.

Draco stared at him with large, grey eyes. "I'm not sure it works that way," he said with another soul wrenching sniff "You can't… _hurt_ me like this and then buy forgiveness with fancy dinners and…"

"I'm not!" Harry protested brushing back Draco's fringe gently with his fingers "I just want to do something nice for you- to make up for being such an idiot. That's all, love. Let me, please?"

Draco seemed to be thinking about it. "Oh, all right," he sighed finally. "But just this once. And do go change, Potter. I'm not going out with someone dressed like a Knockturn Alley bum."

Harry smiled a smile that lit up the room, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then hurried off to change before his oh so forgiving boyfriend changed his mind.

Draco stared after him with a grin of his own, wondering if he should tell his lover that he'd only been tearing up because he'd been chopping onions. He really should, he knew. Relationships were built on mutual trust and deception of any sort was …

"Love, does caviar and vintage wine sound good to you?" Harry called from the bedroom.

Oh well, maybe after dinner…

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><p><strong>Reviews and Feedback, people!<strong>


	18. Ink

**Ink**

It was official.

He was in hell.

Somehow, Draco mused as he opened one bloodshot eye, he hadn't expected hell to be quite so plastered with Chudley Cannon posters. The bright orange of said posters made his head swim, and he would gladly have curled up and died if it weren't for the fact that the bed he was occupying was so very…crowded.

Crowded.

As in, more than one person.

Fuck.

He bolted up as if lightning had struck him and with deep, shaky breaths turned to his side to see who his bed buddy was.

_Fuck._

"Potter," he rasped, shaking the git violently. "Wake up!"

"Can't" Potter mumbled, shoving his head under a pillow "Am dead"

"Not yet but you will be!" Draco snarled. Potter seemed to have finally grasped the gravity of the situation because he bolted up in remarkably Draco like fashion and stared at the blonde as if he were the Grim Reaper.

"You!" he blurted "How…I mean what…I…_why_?"

"You tell me!" Draco groaned, holding his throbbing head in his hands. "Last night…what did we _do_ last night?"

Potter was still gawking and Draco's very fragile hold on his sanity was fast withering away. "Potter!" he spat, grabbing hold of the other man's collar "_What_ did we do last night!"

"I don't know!" Potter snarled "Do I look like I'm in the best shape of my life? And let go of my shirt, you wanker! You nearly…" he trailed off, staring down at his shirt. Then he stared at Draco.

"We're wearing clothes!" he proclaimed joyfully. "Malfoy, we're fully clothed!"

Draco stared a minute before coming up to speed. He heaved a sigh of relief and slumped back on the pillows. "We're fully clothed," he repeated thankfully. "So we didn't do anything stupid last night?"

"No," Potter agreed, with a grin "Looks like we didn't." He got out of bed and stretched "Thank Merlin. You staying for breakfast?"

"No offence, Potter- but I'd much rather be anywhere but here right now. Mind if I borrow a clean shirt though?"

Harry shucked him a shirt, and ambled off to the bathroom leaving Draco alone. The blonde allowed himself another shudder of relief before he stared undressing. Honestly, Potter and him… worst idea ever. Not that Potter wasn't a fit bloke and all but… he stopped his rambling and frowned. Something was weird. Why was his neck… tingling? He reached up to feel the sore spot, it felt numb and painful at the same time. Filled with a vague sense of foreboding, he stepped in front of the mirror.

Fuck.

Adorning his neck, just below the collarbone was a tattoo. He had gone and inked himself last night! Fucking hell! And it said…Draco squinted as he tried to read the inverted print in the mirror.

**PROPERTY OF HARRY JAMES POTTER**

Oh _fuck._

He was just debating whether to faint or scream like an eight year old girl when…

"**MALFOY!"**

Fearing the absolute worst, Draco gulped and ran towards the bathroom.

He was not disappointed.

Potter stared back at him- shirtless, breathless and green eyes flashing with panic. The blonde stared at the Gryffindor's bare chest. Two rings dangling from Potter's nipples- shaped like a D and an M- stared back at him.

Draco made his choice.

Scream like an eight year old girl, it is.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	19. Overrated

**This one was actually a horrendously long one-shot...until I split it up. If you want the follow up as well, let me know ;)**

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><p><strong>Overrated<strong>

"Potter, I'm going to say this as nicely as I can. If you actually think you can beat me at chess, you're an even bigger moron than you look."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The sad part is that for you, that _was_ nice" he remarked dryly. "And yes, at chess I can beat you hollow."

Draco merely smirked. "Ten galleons say you can't."

"I don't play for money, Malfoy."

Draco was just about to say something scathing - possibly including the phrases 'coward', 'wimp' and 'Nya nya nya nya nya nya'- but Potter was already talking.

"I have another proposition" The Gryffindor drawled the last way out in a way that made Draco's skin warm considerably.

"What proposition?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Potter licked his lips in a mildly predatory fashion. "The loser will be the winner's slave for a week." He dropped this particular bomb as if he were talking about the weather. Draco gaped.

"A slave?" he confirmed. "For the whole week?"

"Of course, if you're going to be a coward about it…"

"You're on" Draco hissed. "Transfiguration Classroom, at eight o'clock, tonight. Be there."

"Oh I will" Harry grinned. Draco walked away, resolutely telling himself that the shiver running down his back had nothing to do with Potter's low growl.

That night, Draco wondered what he'd been so worried about. Potter was no novice to the game, but he was no expert either. In fact, loath as Draco was to admit it their skills were rather matched- which meant, that like the past two games this one too, would end in a stalemate.

His eyes gleamed as Potter made a rather disastrous mistake with his knight and he was just about to gloat when…

**KABOOM!**

"Fuck!" Draco yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin. He looked around wildly trying to find a source for the sudden explosion. "What the hell was that?"

Potter shrugged nonchalantly. "Probably Peeves fucking about again" he said. "Now are you going to quit stalling for time and play already?"

Draco sneered and moved his knight. Potter matched his move with a rook. "Check mate" he declared.

The word hung in the air about them.

"_What_?" Draco practically yelped. He stared at the board as if it had sprung to life and bitten him.

"Check mate" Potter repeated again, a lazy grin slowly spreading on his face. "In other words, I win."

"That…that's not possible" Draco managed. It couldn't be. It just couldn't…and yet, there it was in front of him. Whether he liked it or not, Potter had won.

"Oh but it is," Potter chuckled "_Slave_"

That word should not have rolled off Potter's tongue so sinfully. Draco swallowed, feeling the colour flood to his face as the Gryffindor looked him over. Observing him like…like property. Draco swallowed again.

"You will report to me tomorrow at nine sharp and I'll inform you about your duties for the coming week" Potter told him with a smirk "For now, you're dismissed."

Draco barely managed a shaky nod before fleeing from the room like wolves were chasing him. Harry watched him leave with a slight grin. He was going to enjoy this little game. He was just about to leave himself, when he heard a knock on the door.

"Harry?" Dean poked his head in cautiously.

"Dean," Harry grinned. "That blast was genius, mate. Thanks a lot" He shucked a small bag at the Gryffindor. "Ten galleons, as promised"

Dean grinned and pocketed it. "It's what I do. Did it work?"

"Like a charm" Harry grinned. His hand clasped around Malfoy's stolen bishop nestled safely in his pocket. Who knew that one little missing piece could change the course of an entire game? Harry grinned again.

Playing fair was _so_ overrated.

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><p><strong>Reviews please!<strong>


	20. Collar

**The follow up to overrated: as promised :) Thanks for the reviews, people. You rock!**

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><p><strong>Collar<strong>

**(Sequel to Overrated)**

"You stay away from me!" Draco practically yelled. He was _not_ his usual poised self at the moment. He was frazzled and confused and cornered in a deserted hallway by the last person he wanted to see.

Harry shook his head, exasperated. If it weren't for the Silencing Charm he'd put up, people would have started gathering at the scene Draco was making. He addressed the near hysterical blonde, keeping his voice calm and neutral.

"Draco for Merlin's sake, relax before you give yourself an aneurysm."

Draco took a couple of breaths to calm himself because he was not going to make a spectacle of himself. Not because stupid Potter sounded concerned and had used his first name and that somehow helped his state of mind. Not because of that at _all_!

"Good lad" Potter said, making him scowl again. "Now, try to be reasonable for once in your life. You agreed to the stakes. You said if I won, you'd be mine for a week to do with as I pleased." He suppressed a grin as the blonde shivered at his choice of words. "You knew what you were getting into. Why does this bother you so much now?" he asked.

"I didn't think you'd win!" Draco snapped, making Harry chuckle.

"Adorable" he said, ruffling Draco's hair. The blonde slapped his hand away irritably and Harry let it go. There would be plenty of time to play with Draco later. "So you want to back out then?" he asked, his voice a tad challenging.

Draco scowled but shook his head. If he backed out, he would never hear the end of it. He would do this because he was a man of his word. Not because he was just a little bit curious about what Potter had planned. Not because of that at _all_!

"I'll do it" he bit out.

"I thought you would. You're hardly a coward."

The unexpected praise caught him off guard and he looked up surprised. The first thing he saw was Potter holding up a leather collar.

FUCK!

"Now before you get hysterical again, let me finish" Harry cut in before he could start yelling his head off. "This is not an attempt to humiliate you. Well, not _completely,_" he corrected, grinning at Draco's infuriated expression. "It's just a tool to encourage obedience" Potter continued.

Draco swallowed as he stared at it. "How does it…encourage obedience?" he asked hesitantly. He knew some objects could inflict horrible pain with the correct Dark spells. Potter seemed to have guessed what he was thinking because he glared.

"I wouldn't do that to you" he said firmly. Draco nodded. He believed that. Potter, for all his faults was not evil.

"What will it do then?" he asked again, more curious than uneasy.

Potter smirked and handed it over to Draco. He took it, surprised to feel it vibrating slightly. He frowned. "That's it?" he asked, feeling even more confused when Potter nodded.

"How…how is a light buzzing against my neck supposed to encourage obedience?" he demanded.

Potter's dark grin would have put Salazar to shame. "Who says it goes around your neck?" he purred.

Draco opened his mouth to say that he didn't see where else it would fit, but the collar shrunk in his hands before he could say a word. He stared at it. It was just a leather ring now- far too small to slip around his wrist or his ankle, let alone his neck! Where did Potter expect him to wear this stupid…

The blonde's eyes widened in sudden realisation.

Fuck.

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><p><strong>Reviews! Must. Have. More. Thanks for reading :)<strong>


	21. Gryffindors

**Hi all**

**So here's another one shot. Regarding the last one shot and its follow up (Overrated and Collar)- there have been some requests from you lovely, lovely reviewers to make it a series so I'll try working on that separately. I have literally no idea where to take it from there so it may take a while. I'll definitely try my best though.**

**Meanwhile, here's another little drabble. Completely unrelated to the last two, as I said. **

**Hope you enjoy it :) **

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><p><strong>Gryffindors<strong>

"Father, you _promised_!" Scorpius crossed his arms and glared at said father in that annoying, stern manner that he had obviously picked up from his other parent.

Draco turned around quickly, looking unmistakably guilty. "I don't follow" he drawled.

"You promised that you wouldn't curse, threaten, hex or otherwise injure any more of my dates!" Scorpius protested, throwing his arms up in exasperation. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, making it stand up in a remarkable impression of Harry's.

"I wasn't going to do anything of the sort!" Draco protested with a scowl.

Scorpius raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Oh no? Then _why_ are you holding Grandfather's copy of _101 Dark Spells to Neutralise your Adversary_?"

"Light reading?"

"**DAD!"**

"What's with all the yelling?" Harry Potter demanded, recognizing his son's call for help at once. He walked in the room and caught sight of his two blondes- one halfway to hysterical and the other one looking rather smug- and put two and two together quite easily.

"Honestly Draco, I hardly think Justin Longbottom qualifies as your 'adversary'" Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around his husband and trying to pry the book from his fingers.

"Any _boy_ within ten feet of my son is an adversary," Draco retorted sullenly, holding on tightly to his nasty spell-book and making Scorpius groan. "Not to mention a _Gryffindor_…" He would have gone on to list some particularly unflattering traits possessed by said Gryffindors but an elf announced that Master Longbottom was here for Scorpius.

"Go show your date in, son" Harry said reassuringly ruffling the younger boy's hair. "I'll make sure Father behaves, I promise"

"Don't count on it" Draco muttered. Scorpius shot his father one more warning look and went off with the elf. Harry chuckled and turned his husband around to face him.

"Come on, love" he chided, stroking Draco's jaw line lightly with his thumb "They're just kids. How bad could he be?"

"He's a Gryffindor!" Draco repeated, as if this explained everything.

Harry crossed his arms defensively. "And what's wrong with Gryffindors? _You_ picked one!"

Draco smirked, a glint in his grey eyes. "Oh I _did_. After he pursued me relentlessly through the better part of our seventh year- snogging me in hallways, groping me through class and shagging me on any flat surface unfortunate enough to cross his path! Including McGonagall's desk! See where I'm going with this, Potter? Do you _see_ why I'm not particularly keen on a _Gryffindor_ dating our child? Do you? "

Harry paled considerably and snatched up Draco's book with a determined, slightly menacing look on his face.

"Let's go neutralise the adversary," he growled.

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><p><strong>Reviews will be awesome, as always!<strong>


	22. Knock

**Knock**

"And then in the silence of the night, he heard a sharp knocking. Knock. Knock. Knock. Again and again. He took a deep breath and opened the door. And there right in front of him, there it was! The hook was swinging, gleaming in the moonlight and covered in…"

"I'm going to stop you right there."

"Why?"

"_Why_? That, Potter, was the worst scary story ever. I mean really, _really_ pathetic. Are you sure muggles do this for _fun_?"

"Oh, quit being a brat Malfoy. If you don't like the story we can just go to bed."

"Why not? Your story put me to sleep an hour ago."

"Remind me never to take you camping again."

"Noted. Pleasant dreams, Scarhead"

"Good night, Malfoy."

**1:30 AM:**

"Potter! Potter, wake up!"

"Huh…wha…"

"I heard something. Outside the tent!"

…

"Potter!"

"I'm up, I'm up… what'd you hear?"

"Dunno. Sounded like…like knocking."

"Knocking."

"Yes."

"_Knocking._"

"What, you want it in writing? _Yes_, knocking!"

"Like the story I told you, by any chance?"

"Are you implying that I don't know the difference between truly pathetic fiction and reality? Now go and check it before I throw you out!"

…

"_Potter_!"

"I'm going, I'm _going_! Merlin's silk knickers…"

**2:15 AM:**

"Potter! Psst…Potter…"

"Wha…Malfoy? Wait, didn't we already do this?"

"I heard it again. The knocking. Go and check."

"I checked once, remember? There's nothing out there. It's your stupid imagination playing tricks on you because you're scared…"

"I am _not_ scared, Potter! I know what I heard!"

"Well then, _you_ check it out. And let me get some sleep before I strangle you!"

"Some Saviour you turned out to be. Afraid of one _measly_ bloodthirsty monster…"

"I am not afraid, I am tired! That story freaked you out. It's all in your head! Now for Merlin's sake, go to sleep!"

"Fine! But if we die, I am going to kill you."

"Good _night_, Malfoy."

"Fuck off, Potter."

**2:25 AM:**

"I'll pay you a hundred galleons…"

"**GO TO SLEEP!"**

"Fine, Potter. No need to yell…"

**3: 00 AM:**

"Malfoy?"

…

"Malfoy, are you awake?"

"What…what do you want, Potter?"

"I heard something."

"Knocking?"

"More like whimpering."

…

"Malfoy?"

"What?"

"You're not still thinking about that story, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter."

"It was all just make-believe, you know. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I _get_ it, Potter. Just…just go to sleep."

…

"Malfoy?"

"_What_,Potter?"

"Do you want to sleep next to me tonight? There's enough room and it's a big enough sleeping bag."

…

"Well, _that_ didn't take a lot of convincing."

"Shut up, Potter. And move a bit."

"Better?"

"Uh…no. Could you…could you put your arm around my shoulder? You know, just to get more…um...comfortable?"

"How's this?"

"Yeah, much better"

…

"Potter?"

"Oh for the love of…what now?"

"Thanks."

"Oh. Yeah. No…no problem. Good night, Malfoy."

"Good night, Potter."

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><p><strong>If you liked it please review! Authors like that sort of thing. Cheers :D<strong>


	23. Wish

**Wish**

"It's a stupid Muggle superstition and I'm not doing it" Draco stated, absolutely convinced that he was going to have his way on this.

Poor naïve boy.

Hermione Granger glared at her Muggle Studies fieldwork partner. "It's an old tradition and it's part of our assignment on Muggle culture, Malfoy" she said warningly. With a challenging look, she took a step towards the blonde. "Do you _really_ want to stand between me and a perfect grade?" she asked, twirling her wand between her fingers menacingly.

Evidently, Narcissa Malfoy had not raised a foolish son. "Give me the stupid coin" he snapped "But I will have you know that this is _literally_ throwing money away."

"Hold on" Granger said, grabbing hold of his hand as he prepared to chuck his Knut in the shallow lake. "If you're going to do this, do it right. Make a wish first."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"Draco Malfoy, you make a wish and throw a coin in this lake or I swear to Circe I will _make_ you wish you were never born!"

Muttering curses (quietly, lest the wench should hear him) he thought as hard as he could be bothered to, and then with unreasonable force chucked the coin out as far as it would go. It landed in the lake with a small splash.

"Now was that so hard?" the witch asked, walking away without waiting for an answer. Draco sulked for a while before Potter sauntered over with his own partner- Weasley. Suddenly, the ginger's butter beer tipped over and splashed all over Potter's shirt.

"Damn it Ron!" he snapped. "That was fucking cold too!" And with that he took his shirt off in one swipe, exposing tanned, smooth skin and washboard abs to whoever cared to see- including an unexpectedly delighted blonde.

"Well, as long as you're being generous" Draco informed the lake, finally tearing his eyes away from shirtless Potter and throwing a handful of Galleons in for good measure "I also want a pony."

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><p><strong>Reviews, please :)<strong>


	24. Courage

**Courage**

"No! No! **NO**! I won't go and you can't make me!"

Draco stared at his adopted son, with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. Such a small person should not have the lung capacity of a hippogriff. He knelt down in front of the sulking five year old and wiped his face clean with a handkerchief.

"Are we done with all the tantrums now?" he asked conversationally.

"No, we're not" Albus sniffled. He stared up at Draco with such mournful large, green eyes that the blonde had to physically steel himself against the temptation of wrapping the little boy up in a hug and ploughing him with ice cream. Instead, he fought to remain firm.

"Now Albus, I know you don't want to go- you've made it _amply_ clear. But it's important. The healer is only trying to help."

"But he's going to stick a needle in me!" Albus wailed "James said it's ten feet long and sharp and it breathes fire and…"

"James is…imaginative" Draco said, for lack of better words "He is also grounded. As for the vaccination…" He paused to let Albus get in another couple of howls "…it's _not_ painful. You won't even feel it, I promise."

"Father, I'm scared" he mumbled. Draco's resolve broke, his weakness for green eyed, messy haired Potters finally getting the best of him. He wrapped the child up in a fierce embrace.

"There's _nothing_ to be afraid of" he reassured, running a hand in his son's hair "You can do this. Just be brave- like your Dad."

Albus considered that last bit carefully and Draco raised an eyebrow at the calculating look in his eyes. If ever there was a Slytherin candidate, it was this brat right here. Draco was so proud.

"I'll get a shot if _Dad_ gets a shot" Albus announced finally. Draco wanted to argue, probably make some long speech about manipulation and ethics and all that rot, but he was tired. Besides, all Harry had to do was put up a brave front for the child. It was just a stupid shot. He was pretty sure the Boy Who Lived could handle it with his usual aplomb.

"Fine" he said with a resigned sigh "We'll ask Dad and _when_ he takes it bravely, you'll do so without a fuss as well. All right?"

"Ask Dad what?" Harry asked, walking in from the other room.

"You're getting a flu shot!" Albus informed him cheerfully.

At first, there was silence.

Then hell broke loose. Frankly, Voldemort's resurrection would probably have been quieter.

"**NO**!" Harry bellowed, waving his arms frantically and backing away "**No! No! NO**! I won't go and you can't make me!" Before Draco could so much as blink he had run out the door, still ranting about sharp needles and sadistic healers and a thousand times no…

Albus turned to his Slytherin parent with a cheeky grin. "I'll get a shot as soon as Dad gets one, I promise!" With that he skipped off merrily; presumably to tell James he was grounded.

Draco slapped his forehead and went off to cancel the Healer's appointment.

Oh well, maybe next year…

_Maybe._


	25. Common

**Common**

Harry glared sternly at the two sheepish men in the kitchen. His best friend was sporting a cut lip and his boyfriend had a black eye.

"All this over a Quidditch match?" he asked wearily.

At once, shouts of 'he started it' and 'like hell I did' filled the air and Harry prayed to every deity he could think of for some patience. "Knock it off!" he yelled, shutting the two idiots up.

Finally, it was Draco who spoke up. "Harry, I know you want us to get along but it's not going to happen. You're asking for a sodding miracle here."

Ron nodded stoutly, for once in complete agreement with Draco. Harry groaned. Every two weeks, they went over this. "Look, I'm not asking for a bond of eternal friendship here" He paused, allowing the two to shudder before continuing "All I ask is that you learn to have a civilized conversation without killing each other. Can't you two- I don't know- find some common ground or something?"

Draco smirked. "_Look_ at us, Potter. Do we look like two people who would have anything in common? And frankly, I don't want anything in common with _him_. He's a stupid, oafish...SPIDER!"

Ron bristled at once. "Yeah? Well, you're a low down, dirty ferret is what you are and..."

"No!" Draco screeched, scrambling on to the counter in a fit of panic "Spider! Over there!" He pointed frantically in the general direction of Ron's left foot- an altogether unwise decision.

Ron didn't even turn to see it. With a high pitched scream which would have probably made Hermione rethink their relationship had she been there, he scrabbled on to the counter as well joining the blonde. Harry could only gape. They were holding on to each other like two skittish schoolgirls now, each rambling on about the horrible, scary spider.

"Where is it? Is it on me? I feel like it's on me..."

"…size of my bloody hand! Merlin, I hate spiders. That one looked poisonous too…"

"And again I ask- **IS IT ON ME**?"

"Nothing in common, my arse" Harry broke in with a laugh, causing the two to stop and glare at him.

"Well don't just stand there, Potter! Kill the damn thing" Draco snapped, his arms still wrapped around Ron's neck.

"Yeah Harry! Now would be an excellent time to renew that whole Hero of the Wizarding World title" Ron chimed in, hanging on to Draco as well.

"Kill it? I'm going to thank it, maybe buy it dinner" Harry grinned. "Why don't you two stay right there and have a nice chat and I'll go watch the telly, yeah?"

"Harry!"

"Potter, get back here this instant!"

But the Boy Who Lived had already exited, leaving two very awkward men stranded on the counter.

"So" Ron said finally, clearing his throat "You like the Cannons?"

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><p><strong>Reviews make for quicker updates and all that...<strong>


	26. Dance

**Dance**

Not for the first time that day, their argument had dissolved into a screaming match.

"You're adding new steps on purpose! Don't you dare deny it!" Harry shouted.

"It's not adding new steps when I'm trying to avoid getting stepped on by your clod like feet!" Draco yelled back.

"You keep starting off with the hardest dance! Not all of us were trained in ballroom waltzes since we were four, you know! Why can't we just do the basics?"

"You want basics? Basics it is!" Draco snapped, pointing down at his very expensive leather loafers "_This_ is a foot."

"Oh, ha bloody ha!" Harry glared "I don't even know why I agreed to do this with you. Find yourself another dance partner for the wedding. I'm out!" And he stormed off towards the door.

"Fine!" Draco yelled at his retreating back.

And the door slammed shut.

The wedding was perfect. He supposed that was a good thing. Pansy liked perfect. Of course, perfect was expensive and covered in silk table covers and scattered with origami swan napkins. He sincerely hoped Weasley had a heart attack when he saw what this monstrosity would cost him. He deserved it for agreeing to monogrammed napkin rings.

Draco sighed. He was being uncharitable, he supposed. It was a nice enough wedding. Pansy looked happy, Weasley was beaming. And his dance partner was rather perfect himself.

Anthony Goldstein was elegant and graceful in ways Potter could never manage. He held himself with perfect poise and twirled Draco around without missing a beat. He matched every step with precision that came from years of practice, not by wild instinct. He didn't step on his feet, or stare at him with that intense look in his eyes- eyes which by the way, were not the most annoyingly vivid shade of green- and he most certainly did not question his dance techniques vociferously. He was perfect.

Merlin, Draco hated dancing with him.

"Anthony, mind if I cut in?"

Draco's gaze jerked back upwards from his so far intact soft leather shoes, right into electric green eyes. Anthony was already moving aside, his precise, technically flawless hold on Draco's waist replaced by another- haltingly unsure and careful, yet strangely firm. Like a child with a china doll. Potter smiled warmly at him.

"Hi there"

"Hello" Draco managed, not quite sure what he was supposed to say. Potter had yet to step on his foot or accuse him of dance sabotage, so yelling was not really an option.

"I've missed you" Harry said, jumping right in. Just like he did when they were dancing, Draco thought with a flash of annoyance. Doing just as he pleased, moving anywhere he liked, doing whatever he wanted with no consideration for techniques or timing or anything _proper_…and just like that, just like every time Draco was supposed to twist and turn into whatever new surprise Potter threw his way. Jump right in, holding on for dear life…

"I've missed you too" he replied at once, knowing that he meant it.

Harry smiled his brilliant smile again, and bent down to kiss him. And as their lips moved together out there on the dance floor, they mismatched their steps and missed four beats and Potter stepped on his foot _again_.

And Draco realised that he wouldn't have it any other way.

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><p><strong>Not a funny one, I know. But do review if you liked it :P<strong>


	27. Look Out

**Look out**

"Hey, Death Eater!"

Fuck.

"Where do you think you're going, scum?"

The blonde quickened his footsteps. His calculative mind had already deciphered at least three different pairs of footsteps pursuing him. Three people, most likely armed. The odds weren't looking good. Particularly since it was the middle of the night and no one was likely to be out in the castle. His best bet would be to make it to his common room as quickly as he could.

That prospect was eliminated however, as they caught up with him. Knowing he was cornered, he took a deep breath and turned to face his attackers.

"What do you want, Davies?" he asked casually but his hands had balled into fists, clenching at his sides subconsciously. The other two boys had circled around him. This was _really_ not looking good.

"Now now Malfoy" Davies smirked, taking a step closer and twirling his wand in a way that was relaxed, yet fraught with menace. "It's rude to answer a question with a question."

The blonde smirked. "Perhaps I just have nothing to say to the likes of you. Now get out of my way."

The taller boy's hand shot up to clutch his shoulder in a painful grip. "You're not going anywhere, _Death _Eater" he spat viciously, his lip curling in a way bordering on obscene.

"I am _not_ a Death Eater" Malfoy said through gritted teeth. He was being pinned down now, by the two brutes behind him. And he mentally resolved to go down fighting, if it came to that. Davies came so close to his face that the young Slytherin could smell his sour breath. "You and your father should be thrown out of our world, you know that? You should be drawn and quartered and left to…"

"Is there a problem here?"

All four of them turned around at once. The dark haired boy stared back. His face was neutral, but his posture taut. His expression held the hint of a challenge. Clearly, he was ready to fight.

"Back off, Potter" Davies hissed "This isn't about you. Just walk away"

"And miss you lot taking out your frustrations on an innocent kid?" the intruder challenged with a smirk.

"Innocent!" Davies sputtered. "But you would see it that way, Potter. Hanging around fucking Death Eater _spawn_ like they…"

The brunette's wand was at his throat before he could complete that. "Choose your next words carefully, Davies. Any more shit out of you and I know a couple of hexes that would curl your toes."

Davies had turned an ugly shade of puce by now, but his mouth was shut. Nobody messed with Potter. He was deadly with a wand and apparently, extremely protective towards Malfoy. Even Davies could see that it would be a bad idea to push this further. The blonde had also managed to free himself from his lackeys by now and had joined Potter on his side. His wand was raised as well. Davies knew when he was beat.

"This isn't over, scum" he spat at Malfoy.

A Stinging Hex from Potter's wand hit him straight in the chest. Davies fell over groaning.

"You so much as _look_ at him the wrong way again, and you'll answer to me." Potter's voice was low and dangerous. Next to him, Malfoy smirked.

Davies shot them both one last baleful glare, before collecting himself and his cronies and slinking away. Potter watched them leave with a look of disgust, before turning his attention to the blonde.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to go traipsing off on your own at night?" he asked irritably. "What would you have done if I hadn't shown up?"

The blonde shrugged. "You always show up" he replied with easy confidence "Besides they don't bother me that much anymore. Not since you had three sent to the Hospital Wing." He smiled warmly at the brunette. "Thanks for looking out for me again."

James Sirius Potter grinned back and ruffled the shorter boy's hair. "That's what big brothers are for. And I'm not joking, Scorpius. No more late nights, yeah? Dad and Father will have my head if anything happens to you."

"No staying out late. Got it, chief"

"And let me know if that prat Davies pulls anything again. Nobody roughs up my kid brother but me."

Scorpius grinned.

It was nice having someone look out for him.

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><p><strong>So, yeah. Not HarryDraco centric, but its implied so I suppose it counts :) Hope you guys enjoyed it.**

**This will probably be the last one for a while, since I am going through a most inconvenient phase of writer's block :( Rats.**

**But I should be back soon enough with some more one shots. Thanks so much for all your reviews and responses. Its been a blast so far! See you lot soon.**

**Cheers**

**Alex**


	28. A New Man

**Well, looks like I got one more :D Hope you guys enjoy**

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><p><strong>A New Man<strong>

"And _this_ is absolutely necessary for my therapy?" Harry asked uncertainly, for possibly the millionth time.

Next to him, the slender blonde sighed and rolled his eyes. "Honestly Potter, anyone would think you didn't trust me."

"No. Imagine that" Harry deadpanned, causing Draco to smirk.

"Look, I get that it's…unorthodox. Nobody was more sceptical than I was, but this method worked wonders for me. I felt like a new man. It works like a charm, so stop being a wimpy little sod and _trust_ me."

"Fine" Harry muttered. "Here goes nothing. You'll be right here, won't you?" He didn't think he could do this if Draco wasn't.

The blonde clapped his shoulder. "I wouldn't let you do it alone, Pothead. Now go and confront your demons and all that shite."

Harry smiled at his friend, took a deep breath and walked down the short distance to 4, Privet Drive. He stood out on the lawn, surveying the house of horrors for as long as he could. It was only when he caught Draco's eye again and was reassured of his presence, that he mustered up enough courage to ring the doorbell. His hand clutched around the parcel he was holding. For split second he reflected on how insane this was and then the door swung open to reveal the purple, aghast face of Vernon Dursley. "You!" he sputtered incoherently "What are you…how did you…"

"It's nice to see you too" Harry smirked. A nasty habit he'd picked up from Draco, but at least he looked more confident than he felt. "It's been a while, hasn't it? But I didn't come here for small talk, Uncle Vernon. I have a few things to say to you and I think it's about time I did."

He took a deep breath and let it all out.

"You, Vernon Dursley are an evil, horrible, narrow minded person with nothing of value to add to the world. I was an innocent child and you hated me for no fault of mine. You made me feel like a freak, a worthless piece of garbage. You lied to me about my parents. What's more, you probably still think you did nothing wrong. You are a sad, sick human being and I am glad to have nothing more to do with you."

Uncle Vernon just stared, his face still a fetching shade of vermillion and his lip curled in a sneer. "And just what are you going to do about it, boy?" he bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth. "Threaten me with that freakish hocus pocus of yours? Who do you think you…"

"Please" Harry cut in. "I hardly think threats are in order after all these years. I actually brought a present for you." He had already opened the parcel he'd been holding. Vernon's eyes widened as Harry revealed what he had brought.

"Thanks for nothing, Dursley!" he shouted. And with a resounding **SPLAT** he shoved the entire banana cream pie in Vernon Dursley's sodding fat face. He could feel, rather than hear Draco's resounding howl of laughter, mingled with Vernon's howls of sheer rage as he sputtered and swore and tried to shove whipped cream out of his eyes and ears. A few neighbours stopped and gaped and a passing group of kids burst into peals of laughter.

Harry laughed as well, amazed at the incredulity of it all. Then he turned his back on Privet Drive for the last time and walked away from his dessert laden relative, clapping the grinning blonde on the back

"You're right," he said with a grin "I do feel like a new man"

Draco was nearly doubled up with laughter. "So do I!" he managed "Merlin, that was brilliant!"

"You never told me though. Who did you shove a pie at?"

Draco shrugged and smirked again. "Let's just say Lucius and I are not on speaking terms any more. Now come on, Pothead. I like coffee with my pie"

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><p><strong>Well, I'm not sure how funny it is. <strong>

**I just really thought Vernon Dursley deserved a pie in the face.**

**Cheers! And reviews if you liked it, please!**


	29. Check

**Check**

To say that Draco was disconcerted was an understatement.

"Go away" he snapped, chucking a stone at…it. Brown eyes just observed him casually before turning away. Draco watched it slink off with a mingled sense of relief and apprehension.

Somehow, he knew he hadn't seen the last of it.

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><p>He was watching television with Harry. It was a Friday night ritual of theirs. Guzzling pizza and curling up on the couch, watching a slew of awful, awful movies. Draco sighed contentedly and cuddled closer to his boyfriend. The brunette grinned and responded by placing a kiss on the top of his head.<p>

"So we're watching The Notebook?" he teased lightly "Just in case I didn't believe you were gay?"

"Shut up, Potter" Draco retorted with a light shove. As he lifted his head to place a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek, his sharp gaze caught sight of a dark shadow flitting across the yard.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked as Draco jumped slightly.

"Nothing" the blonde replied "Just some animal out at night, I suppose"

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><p>He was making dinner. It was the one thing he insisted on doing for Harry. Draco had nearly brought the house down when he learned that Harry had cooked and cleaned for those awful Muggles he had lived with as a child. The blonde hadn't let him set foot in the kitchen since.<p>

He was busy chopping up vegetables when he saw it peering at him through the window. Draco groaned. It was like being stalked.

"Here" he snapped, opening the window and shucking a piece of sausage at it "Now stop bothering me and go be creepy somewhere else!"

It collected the sausage and left.

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><p>Harry was ill. It wasn't serious, Hermione had said. Just the flu and exhaustion from work. He just needed some rest.<p>

Draco had already firecalled the Ministry and called in sick for him, brewed him an extra batch of Pepper Up Potions and spoon-fed him some broth with alternative gentle coaxing and dire threats.

A couple of tantrums later, Harry had consented to resting but only if Draco stayed with him. The blonde had smiled, kissed his petulant boyfriend and slipped under the covers with him.

Neither one noticed a pair of brown eyes watching intently from a small window.

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><p>They were picnicking in the woods. Draco smiled and stroked Harry's fringe back as the brunette lay with his head in his lap, fast asleep.<p>

Draco looked up and sighed in exasperation as a now familiar face looked back at him. "You know" he drawled, softly lest he wake up the slumbering brunette "I'm starting to think you're checking up on me."

The black dog just cocked its head inquisitively. Then it did something it had never done before. It approached Draco and licked his hand. The blonde started in surprise. Then he reached out and patted the dog's head. "You're all right, I suppose" he said, half to himself. "Now go on. Can't you see I want to be alone with my boyfriend?"

He grinned as the dog gave him one last look and trotted off.

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><p>The ghost of Sirius Black watched the two boys for a long time after that. The Veil was a strange thing, he had come to realise that. He neither questioned it, nor believed that he had the right to. Death was greater than all of them.<p>

Still, he was grateful that he could still assume his dog form. Even if it was just once in every ten years, it was a concession he was extremely thankful for.

He would miss seeing Harry of course. He wanted to, he really did. But Harry was happy. And he didn't need the ghosts of his past anymore. He had a future. And, Sirius realised as he watched Draco Malfoy place a gentle kiss on his godson's forehead, Harry wasn't alone anymore. He had everything he needed right here.

He would be back though. Just to check. He was a Godfather, after all.

"See you in ten years, boys" he whispered, before disappearing back into the world of the non living.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please :)<strong>


	30. Funeral

**Funeral**

Draco sighed as he donned his black robes for the funeral. They were conservative and sober, not really that different from his usual attire. Still, times like this called for extra effort.

"Are you ready?"

He nodded at his husband and laced his fingers through Harry's. "As ready as ever" he said quietly.

Harry responded with a light squeeze of his fingers. "Teddy needs this" he said carefully.

"I know" Draco replied.

They walked outside to the garden where Teddy stood, looking forlorn and lost. Ron Weasley was ruffling his hair and Hermione seemed to be saying something vaguely comforting to him. The little boy nodded before catching sight of his two guardians. He ran towards them, wrapping himself around Harry's leg. Draco smiled slightly and ruffled the child's hair.

"I miss them" Teddy mumbled, shifting his attention from Harry to his cousin.

"I know, my prince" Draco said, carefully disentangling Harry from the boy and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're all here for you."

Teddy nodded and Harry cleared his throat. "Whenever you're ready, Ted" he said softly. The little boy took a deep breath and hand in hand, the three walked towards the two graves- their final resting place.

It was a simple service. Teddy read out his eulogy. It was longer than expected but Harry made sure that everyone was listening with rapt attention. Twice, he sent a glare towards Ginny for checking her watch during the ceremony.

"…and that's why I miss them. I wish I could have said goodbye. I wish I could have told them how much I love them. That I'll always love them" Teddy said finishing up with the eulogy. "So, I guess this is goodbye then. I hope you guys are happy in heaven. Just don't forget me. I love you, Garlic and Strawberry."

Ron snorted and covered it up with a false cough. Hermione prodded his shoulder and sent an apologetic look to a glowering Draco.

"Honestly," Ginny hissed at Harry when he was in earshot "I _get_ that the kid loved his goldfish, but this is the fifth 'funeral' this year! Can't you two just flush them down the toilet and get new ones like normal people?"

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><p><strong>I can has reviews? Pretty please?<strong>


	31. Writhe

**Writhe**

Harry stared slack jawed at the sight in front of him. No, he didn't believe it. Yes, he _was_ shocked out of his wits, thank you for asking. Was he going to stop drooling anytime soon? Not really, he didn't think so.

He could hardly be blamed he felt, as he watched the blonde writhing and undulating on a raised platform to the tempo of some song Harry couldn't be arsed to remember. Rather hard to focus on song lyrics when Draco fucking Malfoy is not ten feet from you, wrapping his legs around a pole, arching his neck and moving his hips like a sinuous feline.

His silk shirt was half off, the buttons scattered over the place. The brunette would like to imagine them being ripped off by his teeth. He was surrounded by a slough of men, reaching and groping hungrily for him but he remained just out of their reach- something Harry was inexplicably grateful for. The blonde's eyes were half lidded as he moved with an elegant grace that was one hundred percent Malfoy even in this scenario, and Harry swallowed. This, he decided was the best day of his life.

Draco's eyes opened and their gaze met across the bar. Clearly, the blonde didn't share his assessment. His grey stare registered shock, then horror and finally rage. He detached himself from his crowd of drooling admirers and approached Harry with quick, long strides. Harry felt his arm being gripped in an almost painful manner and found himself being hauled to the backroom of the club- a private area.

Malfoy locked the door and turned to him, his gaze reflecting absolute fury.

"Forty three clubs, Potter. Forty three _fucking_ clubs in London alone and you just had to show up in mine, didn't you?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something, and decided there wasn't really anything he could blurt out that wouldn't make the blonde want to kill him. Besides his mind was still in overdrive after Draco had pulled that scissoring move. So he settled for just staring. Staring was good. Especially staring at a leather clad Malfoy.

The blonde seemed to be torn between threatening him with Unforgivables and bribing his way out of this mess. Finally, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look Potter, I get what this seems like to you, so before you run off judging me just let me explain, yeah? Yes, it is what it looks like. I am, for all practical purposes, a stripper. But I don't do this for the money, okay? I do it because my Ministry job runs me ragged and I'm expected to be the perfect Malfoy all the time and for three hours every Friday, it's nice to just be anonymous and free and…well, lets face it mind numbingly sexy."

Harry could hardly disagree with that assessment. So he said nothing. Malfoy continued, his hands folded defensively across his bare chest. "So if you would be so kind as to keep this little meeting to yourself, I would be very grateful."

"Malfoy- just answer one question for me, will you?"

"What's that, Potter?"

"Is that a sequinned g-string under your trousers?" _Please say yes, please say yes…_

Draco groaned and ran his hands through his hair. "You're not going to make this easy, are you Potter? Fine, then. _What_ will it take to keep your mouth shut?"

Harry grinned and took a step towards the mouth watering blonde. "How about a dance? Or twelve?"

Draco's eyes narrowed before his lip curled in a smirk and he pushed Harry on top a conveniently placed sofa.

Yes, Harry decided as the blonde climbed on to his lap. Definitely the best day of his life.

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><p><strong>So, yeah. I guess I just need an excuse to put Draco on a stripper pole ;)<strong>

**Also, a special thanks to all my regular readers who have stuck with these drabbles and shared the love. You guys are amazing :)**

**So onwards to the nice shiny review button!**


	32. Gun

**Sorry its late, people! I'm travelling and I miss writing like crazy. So I managed this little drabble.**

**Hope you like it :)**

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><p><strong>Gun<strong>

Harry gripped the cool handle of the gun carefully. He was not used to guns, he certainly hated handling them. The weapon in his hand seemed to be mocking him. It knew he wouldn't fire. That he couldn't. In that sense, he preferred wands. They were a lot less messy. It was all lights and flashes and bad guys going down without making a mess. It was...cleaner. Guns came with a whole host of scenarios he didn't think he could go through with. Unfortunately, Malfoy didn't seem to have that problem.

"Come on out, Potter. Let's get this over with"

Harry suppressed a whimper. He didn't want this. He just wanted out. Perhaps it would be better to let Malfoy finish him...

No! He couldnt think like that!

"I'll find you, you know" Malfoy drawled leisurely "You can't hide forever"

True. But he would hide for as long as he could, crouched behind this box. It was a matter of time before he found him, Harry knew that but he'd be damned if he made it easier for him.

"I'll make it easy, Potter. If I'm feeling generous... hell, I might even make it painless. Come on out, and let's settle this like men."

He held his breath. Malfoy's footsteps were far too close. He was nearby. But where? He was so close that...

"Hello, Potter"

The brunette barely suppressed a scream as he turned around to face his blonde attacker. Malfoy's lips curled into a smirk. He was covered from head to foot in scarlet with the gun clutched firmly in his sure grip, levelled at Harry. This was it. The brunette wanted to be sick. Only, he wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of watching him crumble. He would go down with dignity.

He stood shakily, facing the blonde with his head held high. The gun was limp in his fingers. "Make it quick" he said, glad that his voice remained steady.

"You know I will, Potter" Malfoy said with a cold smile. "It ends now."

He heard two shots, muffled by the sounds of his own heartbeat. The next second, the pain in his chest brought him to his knees and he gasped. He thought he heard the bastard laugh as he slumped to the floor, a dead weight.

It was over.

"Time!" someone yelled "Okay lads, time's up. Off the pitch, everyone off the pitch!"

Draco grinned and chucked his gun away, helping the brunette up. "I win" he declared proudly. "_Again_"

"Yeah, yeah" Harry grumbled, wiping away smudges of purple paint from his mask. "Woo bloody hoo for you." He winced as his chest throbbed. Merlin, he hated paintball. If it wasn't the one Muggle sport Draco truly loved, he would never so much as look at a bloody paintball again.

Draco laughed. "You're just jealous of my superior skills, Potter. Merlin, I love this game!"

"Of course you do. It involves pretty colours and me in a world of pain!" Harry groused. Still, as he returned Draco's enthusiastic grin and nodded wearily at his demands that they come back next Saturday he figured it was worth it.

Even if the bastard aimed like a pro.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	33. Git

**Git**

"I would just like to point out that this was _not_ in the job description."

"So you've said. Fourteen times, but who's counting, eh?"

"Whatever, Scarhead. When we get back to the Ministry I'm having a few words with Kingsley about job exploitation."

Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He himself was not in the mood to hang about in Muggle London on a Saturday, looking for 'potential Dark Activity' but it was a part of their Auror training and he could live with it. His partner however, was a different story. He was bored and unhappy and exasperatingly vocal about it. Sometimes, Harry honestly wondered why he was friends with the git.

Draco sprawled back on his park bench chewing thoughtfully on his straw, muttering about utter wastes of time and fathers who would hear about this. Harry found it amusing that he'd developed a near obsession with fizzy drinks. He was just about to suggest that they leave early and head for the Leaky Cauldron when…

"_Potter_?"

Harry whirled around and mentally swore as he came face to face with possibly his least favourite person in the world. Dudley Dursely was still fat, still ugly and he was still looking at Harry with undisguised malice. The brunette felt his fists clench as unwelcome memories of dark cupboards and barred up windows assaulted his mind.

"Dudley" he muttered, unconsciously backing away. It took more than defeating a Dark Lord to forget years and years of torment at the hands of a nasty bully of a cousin. Those scars ran deep for Harry.

Apparently, Dudley hadn't missed his subconscious retreat because his pudgy face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Well, if it isn't my freak of a cousin. What a small world."

"Get lost, Dudley" Harry spat, trying to shove his way past. Unfortunately, Dudley seemed to have no intention of letting go. He grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder and pushed him back roughly. "You're not leaving, freak. This is just too precious. What are you doing here anyway? Among _normal_ folk?"

"None of your business, Dudley. Let go before I…"

"Before you what? Let me pound your face in like I did everyday back when we were kids? Let me push you down the stairs and make you eat dirt? Fun times, eh cousin?"

Through the pounding of his ears, Harry failed to notice Draco's sharp intake of breath. Dursley was far too enthralled with having his old punching bag back to notice the blonde who was stealthily approaching them.

"Five years, and nothing changes eh, Scarhead? You're still a useless, pathetic, little piece of garbage who…"

**WHAM!**

Harry's collar was released with an abrupt howl and he blinked as he stumbled. Dudley was on the ground, rolling in agony and clutching his head. Draco towered over him, with a sneer on his face. He rubbed his bruised knuckles, a deathly glare still being directed at the writhing Dursley.

"_Nobody_ calls him Scarhead except me" he spat. "Got that, Porky?" With that, he kicked the moaning lump that was Dudley and strode off, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him along.

As the shock wore off, Harry allowed a grin to grace his features.

Draco scowled balefully at him. "Something you want to say, Potter?"

"Not at all, Draco. Not at all"

And that was why he was friends with the git.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	34. Click

**Another little drabble after a very long time I know.**

**Hope you like!**

* * *

><p><strong>Click<strong>

"Draco, do we _have_ to do this?"

"Don't get all whiny on me, Potter. You're the one who insisted that I take up a muggle hobby"

"I was thinking more like video games! Or gardening! What's wrong with gardening?"

"Nothing. If you're Neville sodding Longbottom. Now shut up. I'm looking for...ah here it is!"

Harry glowered in silence as the blonde rummaged in his bag for a few minutes before triumphantly pulling out a sleek black camera and about a year's supply of film roll. The lens glinted meaningfully at Harry and the brunette let out a long suffering sigh that Draco had no intention of acknowledging.

"Only professionals still use film" he informed Harry loftily "That digital crap is just for amateurs."

Harry pouted in response. "Photography is for snobs" he muttered sullenly.

"Would explain why I'm a natural. Now stop being such a philistine, Potter. What could you possibly have against my delightful little hobby?"

Harry scowled and folded his arms across his chest defensively. "Your 'delightful little hobby' involves _me_ stripping down to absolutely nothing at least three times a week! I'm starting to feel like a slab of meat!"

"What can I say?" the blonde replied with a dramatic sigh "They absolutely _insist_ on giving me all these assignments on nude photography. It's an absolute nuisance, really. Most inconvenient. Now could you take that atrocious shirt off, Potter? I don't want my lens to crack."

The brunette scowled as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor, revealing his tanned smooth chest and emitting a rather satisfied sigh from Draco.

"I still don't understand what kind of studio could possibly need three thousand different nude shots of the same model in a month" Harry muttered, shimmying out of his boxers.

Draco nodded distractedly. "Studio. Right. Weird, I know. Oh well- what can you do, that's the business. Now turn around and stretch for me, pet."

"Like this?"

"Mmm, _just_ like that…"

Click. Click. Click.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	35. Secret

**Secret**

It doesn't get better than this.

Harry laughed aloud in the gigantic warehouse like building. The sound of mirth erupted from his lips and immediately joined the screams and shouts from thousands of fans, the almost fanatical chants of "Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!"

He smiled as some random bloke toppled over him, nearly knocking him to the ground. Another girl was jumping by his side, clutching onto his shoulder and she jumped and shrieked and cheered.

"Let's go, Boss!"

His own voice melted in the vortex of howls and cheers. He was lost. Lost in the madness. In the lights and the chaos and the music. Just another fan, just another face in a crowd of thousands of adrenaline pumped, screaming men and women. He was nameless. Invisible. A secret.

He loved concerts.

The first chords of an acoustic guitar cut through the air. The crowd went mad and he went mad with them.

He howled and he hollered and he celebrated. He laughed as the music filled the air and drowned out the shouts and cheers of a thousand ecstatic people. He felt the vibrations of the music in his body with every beat of the drum and every chord of the guitar. He bellowed out the lyrics to Wrecking Ball and My Hometown and he felt young and free and wild. He pushed and jostled through the crowd and fought for his little piece of floor.

_This_ was what it was all about.

Yet another person pushed right past him and Harry turned this time. His eyes widened as that shock of blonde hair assaulted his direct line of vision. Draco Malfoy was in just in front of him, dressed in a plain white t shirt and blue jeans, looking for all the world like any other concert goer. He was so engrossed that he hadn't even seen Harry yet. But Harry stared, unable to tear his eyes away. Malfoy was h_ere_? Voluntarily?

Malfoy was craning his neck for a better look at the band. He was evidently oblivious of everything around him except the stage- including his school rival. His grey eyes shone with the happiness that Harry had assumed was his alone. His fist cut through the air and his lips mouthed lyrics that were obviously learnt by heart. His slim body swayed and moved and melded in the music and the crowd. He elbowed a bloke who was trying to push him out of the way to get closer to the band. And Harry watched as he lost himself completely and he realised, Malfoy had a secret of his own.

Almost out of instinct, he took a step towards the blonde and reached out to touch his shoulder. His fingers stopped inches from the unaware blonde.

Should he do it? Tell him that he knew? That his secret was out? Watch his eyes widen with dismay and see the fire in them dim with the knowledge that he had been discovered? That he was no longer invisible?

And Draco Malfoy laughed and howled and cheered and jumped like a maniac as the band came back for an encore. His grey eyes were alight with something Harry had never seen before. He looked…free.

And Harry smiled and backed away.

This was one secret that was safe with him.

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><p><strong>Apologies for the slightly unrealistic drabble. <strong>

**Blame it on The Boss. **

**Reviews? Feedback? Pretty please?**


	36. Pain

**Pain**

_Some_ would call it pain.

Harry Potter begged to differ. The Cruciatus Curse was painful. This, on the other hand was a sharp, stabbing, gut wrenching blood curdling _agony_ that shot down to the very fibres that held his being together. There was pain. And then there was this private hell he had somehow gotten himself into.

"**FUCK**!" he cursed, rubbing his foot gingerly and glaring at the bane of his existence. Look at it, all innocent and red and shiny. But Harry knew! Harry knew what evil lurked behind that cheery, plastic exterior. And he had had enough! He was purging his house of the evil creations if it was the last thing he did!

Limping and still cursing, he shuffled across to his living room to solve this matter once and for all.

"It happened again" he bit out. His boyfriend was sitting on the floor, surrounded by…_those_ things. He looked up at him, his grey gaze reflecting a mild irritation at being interrupted.

"What?" he demanded, breaking eye contact and immediately going back to his project. Harry watched as he nimbly handled another one of those horrible things and his eyes flashed.

"You know _exactly_ what happened" the Gryffindor hissed vehemently "You said it wouldn't and it _did_."

"Oh? Did it?" Draco asked innocently.

Harry scowl darkened. "Yes it did! And it fucking hurt!"

"Perhaps you should be more careful not to step on them" Draco ventured mildly.

"I would, if they weren't all over the fucking house. And it's _your_ fault!" Harry retorted, pointing an accusing finger at the blonde "_You're_ the one that brought those torture devices into our home!"

Draco raised an eyebrow "You're being very childish"

"_I'm_ being childish?" Harry blurted incredulously. He picked up the cardboard box and shook it meaningfully "_I'm_ not the one playing with something 'for ages six and up!'"

"It's not playing, its _building_!" the blonde snapped, snatching the box back and huddling it protectively. Harry resisted the urge to smack his forehead. He had to stay firm. Firm, damn it!

"Draco, I mean it!" he gritted out "I know you love the blasted things but…but either the legos go, or _I_ go!"

Draco finally abandoned his precious 3 foot, red and green lego dragon and adopted a pained expression. "But they're so colourful!" he protested.

"I don't care. I'm putting my foot down" Harry said firmly.

"Isn't that what caused the whole problem?" the blonde muttered. Harry's glare was dark enough to blot the sun and Draco knew that the whole situation was screaming for damage control. Or he _would _end up losing his legos. And Draco was _not_ giving up on his legos.

Time for drastic measures.

He smiled sensually and hooked his slender arms around Harry's shoulder.

"And you're sure I can't convince you to change your mind?" he asked softly, his voice sounding low and husky.

"No" Harry said firmly "It's too much pain to deal with. Even for you"

"Are you sure?"

"Draco, for Merlin's sake! _Nothing_ is going to convince me to…"

And the rest of his sentence fell by the wayside as Draco's lips slipped over his and pulled him into a smooth, sensual and wholly distracting kiss. Harry fought for control over his senses, and lasted a whole three seconds before he succumbed to the devious blonde's ministrations and deepened the kiss. He was vaguely aware that he was supposed to be pissed off and righteously indignant and all that, but it was really hard to stay focused when Draco's tongue did things like _that_…

"Bed" the blonde demanded, pushing the two of them towards said target. He pulled Harry towards the bed and they landed together with Harry on top, happily exploring the expanse of pale, smooth skin at his disposal.

"Draco" he moaned.

"I'll take care of it, love" the blonde said, with a sultry smile. "Let me do all the work"

And with that he turned on his side and rolled Harry over.

Right on top of a lego.

"**FUCK!**"

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	37. Dinner

**Dinner**

"I can't believe they _do_ that! It's barbaric is what it is! Of all the _sick_, disgusting…"

Draco sighed and smacked his forehead, letting the rant just wash over him. All he had wanted to do was take his boyfriend out for a nice seafood dinner. He should _not_ have to deal with this. For the thousandth time this evening, he tried to reason with his incensed lover.

"Harry love, I _told_ you. It's just something they do at these fancy places. It's considered a privilege to pick your own seafood while its still…fresh."

Harry's emerald green eyes flashed dangerously as he turned on Draco. "It wasn't fresh! It was alive! They were still _alive_!" he yelled, apparently outraged on behalf of all sea creatures "Do you have any idea what it was like? Sitting there and…and looking at those poor, helpless animals trapped in that aquarium? And having to _choose_ one to be sentenced to _death_! It was horrible! And you! I can't _believe_ you picked one!"

"I was hungry!" Draco snapped. "Actually, let me rephrase. I _am_ hungry!" he glared pointedly at Harry, who had stormed out of the restaurant before Draco could so much as reconsider his main course.

"You're heartless!" Harry snapped back. "We'll be waiting when you're ready to apologise!"

Draco glanced at the squirming bundle Harry was holding. His would be dinner was nestled in his boyfriend's arms, glaring at him with beady eyes and clicking its pincers malevolently.

"_Please_ tell me you're not seriously considering keeping that lobster!" the blonde called to Harry's retreating back.

"His name is Snappers!"

Draco gave up.

From now on, he was sticking to Chinese take out.

* * *

><p><strong>In protest of all those nasty seafood places that make you choose your dinner.<strong>

**I hate those places.**

**All hail Snappers!**


	38. Worth It

**Worth It**

He hadn't had very high hopes for Harry's first dinner with his parents. Still, Draco Malfoy mused as he watched his boyfriend nurse his swollen eye, it had far, _far_ exceeded his modest expectations. Back in his flat after what would hereafter be known as the Dinner Disaster of 2012, he approached the pouting Boy Who Lived.

"Well I just got an owl from Mother" he said sternly, causing Harry to glance up at him with large, green eyes- well, just 'eye' considering that his left one was purple, swollen and rather useless at the moment. "Father has agreed not to- and I quote-'hunt you down and feed you your own entrails."

"He started it" Harry mumbled sulkily. "He said I was an uncouth hooligan with manners unfit for a mountain troll"

"Well you sure proved him wrong" Draco sneered. Harry adopted his signature kicked puppy look and the blonde sighed. He could never be angry with Harry when he looked all sad and sorry for himself like that.

"Give" he commanded, and the brunette gratefully handed over the wet cloth he'd been clumsily assaulting his injured eye with for the past ten minutes. The blonde pushed him down gently and tended to the eye, dabbing it carefully.

"I love you" Harry said suddenly.

"And I love you" Draco replied, placing a quick kiss on his idiot boyfriend's forehead "Even if you behaved atrociously and reduced my Father to a sputtering puddle of rage"

"He hexed me!" Harry protested.

"You climbed up on the dining table and yelled -and again I quote- _'I'm banging your son, Lucy'_" Draco deadpanned "Tell me you didn't deserve it"

"Well, he didn't have to throw the pasta at me."

"You did a happy dance, you tosser."

"Worth it" Harry replied with iron clad conviction "Totally worth it"

* * *

><p><strong>Any excuse to reduce Lucius to a sputtering puddle of rage :D <strong>

**Reviews, please.**


	39. Laugh

**Laugh**

He couldn't laugh. If he laughed, he would be a terrible, terrible person. But _damn_, it was hard!

"Harry?" Draco called, as he stood under the giant oak tree on the Manor grounds "You can come down now, if you like"

Do. Not. Laugh.

A messy mop of dark hair poked out of the foliage and Harry's sulky face came into view. Draco bit his lip and struggled to keep his face blank. Oh, he couldn't laugh. Not if he wanted Harry to get down from there before Christmas. He took a deep breath and redoubled his boyfriend retrieval efforts.

"I promise it's safe" he coaxed, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

"I think I'll just stay up here, thanks" Harry retorted, mulishly hanging on to the branch "And you can stop laughing, you great prat!"

"I'm not laughing" Draco protested feebly. At any rate, he had been making a superhuman effort not to.

"You are too!" Harry snapped "And you're bloody mean to do it. I just got chased up a tree by a vicious animal and all you can do is stand there and snicker"

"Alexander didn't mean anything by it. He's just… spirited"

"He's vicious!" Harry insisted, climbing a few branches higher in protest. Draco groaned.

"Come on, Harry. I promise he won't hurt you."

"Did you see his eyes? Those are the eyes of a killer! He's out for blood, Draco!"

"He was just playing with you, Harry. And even if he wasn't I promise I wont let him hurt you. Now please, I'm begging you for the love of Merlin come down from there."

It took the better part of an hour but Draco finally managed to coax his sulky, pouty brunette out of the tree. Harry still looked angry at being laughed at but he melted into Draco's arms quite willingly. The blonde gathered his boyfriend against his chest and held him close.

"I'm sorry Alexander upset you so much" he murmured, cuddling Harry closer.

"Bloody scary git" Harry muttered, burrowing further into Draco's arms. "With all his hissing and stomping and…and flapping! He flapped at me!"

"I know, love. There's nothing more terrifying than a flapping peacock"

"Are you laughing at me again?"

This time, Draco didn't even try to deny it.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are awesome, as always :)<strong>


	40. Car

**Car**

"Harry, the car won't start."

Harry looked up from the puzzle he was failing to solve and turned a puzzled frown in the direction of his all too innocent looking boyfriend. "Really?"

Draco nodded sagely. "I think there's water in the carburettor" he put in helpfully.

Now Harry wasn't condescending by nature. There were things where he would never question Draco's opinion. Potions, hair gel, dress robes- Draco was clearly the expert. Cars and anything remotely mechanical? Not so much. This _was_ the same bloke who had tried to Avada Kedavra their washing machine. So if Harry didn't set much store by Draco's opinion on their Chevy, he thought he was well within his rights.

"I'm sure its fine" he finally said, dismissing the issue as trivial and going back to his puzzle.

Draco shook his head. "I'm telling you there's water in the carburettor" he insisted.

Harry frowned. "Draco, it's probably just a small blow out. I'm telling you it's fine."

"And I'm telling you there's water in the carburettor!"

Harry was getting a tad annoyed now. "You don't even know what a carburettor is!"

"Look, we can argue about this all night, but it doesn't change the _fact_ that there is water in the…"

"Merlin's pants! Fine, I'll go look at it. Where's the car anyway?"

Draco didn't even bat an eyelid as he replied "At the bottom of the lake."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, yes- it's an old joke *Dies of shame* <strong>

**But, I definitely see Draco doing something of this sort. I know, I'm weak.**

**Review anyway :)**


	41. A Little Less Competition

"Malfoy, I won fair and square. I didn't cheat, I didn't lie and I did not charm the Snitch to waltz into my hand, as you so kindly implied to Madam Hooch. Its 2 AM on a Monday night, and I am tired. Can I _please _go to bed now?"

"Not until you admit that you have an unfair advantage! How could anyone else spot the Snitch when your sodding, big head is in the way? I demand justice! And your head on a platter! But mostly justice..."

Harry prayed for patience. Again, he tried to reason with his incensed, possibly barking mad rival. "Malfoy, listen to me. It's _just _a game. You win a few, you lose a few. Just because…"

"Because your big head was in the way!" Draco snarled, his entire body shaking with righteous indignation at the blatant injustice of it all. "I am not leaving until I get a rematch, _Potter_!"

"Have you considered therapy?" Harry asked, completely exasperated. Honestly, there was a fine line between competitive and borderline psychotic and Malfoy was tap dancing on it.

"I'll give you a hundred galleons for a rematch!" Malfoy cut in desperately.

And now he was officially on the next bus to Crazy Town.

"No" Harry said firmly. He was _not _enabling this!

"How about Chess?"

"No"

"Exploding Snap?"

"No!"

"A race?"

Harry fought the urge to bang his head against the wall. Clearly, this wasn't going to stop. "Fine!" he snapped finally "We'll race. _Once_. From here to the dungeons, and I call. Got it?"

Draco nodded and crouched, preparing to run. Harry got in position beside him as well.

"On your mark" he announced ominously "Get set. GO!"

Draco took off like a Firebolt with a last "You'll never catch me! Never never **never**!" thrown over his shoulder. Harry watched him blaze off with a look that was half amusement and half exhaustion.

And then he bolted in the opposite direction, towards the Gryffindor Tower.


	42. Bicycle

**This is a longish one-shot. It can be read as a follow up to 'A Little Less Competition'.**

**Just your basic silly fluffiness.**

**I sort of got carried away. Again. :-/**

* * *

><p>"BICYCLE! BICYCLE!"<p>

"Stop it"

"I want to ride my bi-cy-**KAL**…"

"Stop it"

"I want to ride my biiiiike…"

"Malfoy- for the love of Merlin, put a sock in it!"

Harry seethed and cursed a blue streak as the blond ignored him in favour of yowling like a Kneazle on the wrong end of an Aguamenti. They were cycling down to Hogsmeade- one of Hermione's bright ideas. She had decided that 'it would be nice' to transfigure some bicycles and ride into town instead of walking this time. The suggestion had been welcomed by most of the class. Even the Slytherins had been persuaded to try the curious Muggle contraptions.

Hence Harry's current predicament.

"I want to ride my bi-cy-**KAL**, I want to ride it where I liiike" Malfoy bellowed, merrily sailing past him. The Gryffindor gritted his teeth and pedalled furiously. The prat had been cycling and singing for thirty minutes now and Harry was about ready to tear his hair out. When he found the bastard who had taught Malfoy that infuriating song…

He was mentally counting to ten for the fourth time when the blond in question started his horrific yodelling yet again "I want to ride my…"

"Don't. You. Dare finish that!" Harry bit out through clenched teeth; the thunderous look on his face leaving no doubt that now would be a very good time to back down.

Obviously, Draco did not back down. "It's a free country, Potter. I'll sing if I want to" he said snottily, ringing his bell to make a point.

"Is that what you call it?" Harry snapped. "It sounds like a mandrake orgy!"

"I might be persuaded to stop" Draco mused airily.

Harry nodded almost desperately. At this point, Malfoy could have the bloody Sword of Gryffindor if he would just stop his bellyaching.

"We race till Hogsmeade!" the blond announced cheerfully "And no legging it like you did last time, you lazy git!" he added, scowling at the dark haired boy. Clearly, he was still upset by Harry's escape during their last 'race'. In the Gryffindor's defence- it was 3 in the morning and he had been in no mood to deal with Malfoy's obsessive competitiveness. Right now though, he was out of options.

"Fine" he relented "We'll have the stupid race. Just don't sing. Ever"

Draco responded with a haughty lift of his chin. "I'll call this time" he said "On your mark. Set. GO!"

"You prat! You started at set!" Harry yelled as he peddled furiously after the cheating bastard. They boys raced neck and neck, each out to win- Draco because he was competitive to the point of maniacal, and Harry because he was just plain pissed off.

He didn't remember when exactly the pushing began but he was pretty sure Draco started it. Nonetheless, they had started batting at each other in a desperate attempt to get ahead. Harry hadn't even realised that their stupid tussling had gotten so out of hand but the next thing he knew, an extra hard shove had Draco careening off the road and colliding rather spectacularly with a tree.

"Shit!" Harry cried, dismounting from his bike and rushing to the blond who was lying by the road in a crumpled heap. "Malfoy!" he yelled, gripping hold of the prone Slytherin and shaking him frantically "Draco…say something! Talk to me!"

"Did I win?" Draco asked, blinking.

Harry gaped. "You absolute…yes, yes you won! Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?" He checked the Slytherin over carefully, heart pounding in his chest. Draco didn't seem hurt. He was obviously concussed though- because there was no way he would have voluntarily curled against Harry's chest if he wasn't. Or wrapped his arms around his neck. And Harry certainly wouldn't have rubbed his back making soft, crooning noises the whole time. Maybe they were both concussed. Yeah, that was probably it...

"I think I hurt my ankle," Draco mumbled, shaking slightly "And…and I broke my bicycle" He sniffed and rubbed his eyes and all of Harry's previous annoyance melted away at the sight of this infuriating, vulnerable, somewhat cute idiot nestled up against him. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around the blond and stroked his hair. Concussed or not, the stupid prat clearly needed some reassurance and Harry was- for reasons unknown- willing to oblige.

"It's okay" he murmured soothingly "How about I take you back to the castle and Pomfrey can fix you up?"

Draco nodded but didn't let go. Harry allowed himself a small smile as he freed himself from the blond tangle and mounted his bike again. Draco returned his smile shyly and perched himself behind Harry, wrapping his slim arms around his middle. Harry shivered slightly at the sudden warmth against his back and with a soft sigh, he started peddling back to Hogwarts. The companionable silence lasted about five seconds before...

"I want to ride my bi-cy-**KAL**, I want to ride my biiiike…"

* * *

><p>Draco's tune of choice was 'Bicycle' by Queen. Check it out and you may have an idea of why Harry was so pissed off :P<p>

Oh, and reviews would be nice :D Cheers!


	43. Letter

"Did you find him?" Harry asked as Draco entered the house, looking uncharacteristically worried. The blond shook his head. "He's not at the park."

"Hugo and Rose haven't seen him either" Harry said, his green eyes clouded with concern.

"It's not like Teddy to just up and run like that" said Draco "Did you check his room? Maybe he left a note or something."

The couple hurried to Teddy's room and stopped short. The boy's bed was made up and most of his clothes were missing. It looked…empty.

"I don't like this" Draco said quietly, shaking his head. "I don't like it, Harry."

"There's the note" Harry blurted, catching sight of a large envelope on Teddy's spartan bed. It was signed _Harry and Dray _and they recognised Teddy's messy scrawl at once. "This doesn't look good" Harry admitted, gazing uncertainly at his blond lover.

"Better read it" Draco muttered, crossing his arms and looking like he was fearing the worst.

Harry nodded and started reading the note.

"_Harry and Dray,_

_This is a really hard letter to write. I guess I should just come out and say it._

_I'm eloping with my boyfriend tonight. We're running away because we know you won't ever accept our passion for each other and we can't stand to be apart…"_

Harry's voice trailed away, and Draco turned pale. The silence stretched across minutes before the blond spoke in a grim voice. "Finish it, Harry. We need to know what we're dealing with."

Harry nodded shakily and returned to the note. "_Argus and I met at Hogwarts and immediately …_Argus?" he blurted, his eyes widening with sheer, undiluted horror "**Argus Filch?**Draco, tell me he has a classmate named Argus! Tell me he doesn't mean…"

"I'm going to be sick" Draco declared, swaying a little. He sank on Teddy's abandoned bed, gesturing weakly at Harry to continue. The Gryffindor swallowed and rallied to read the rest of this travesty.

"_Ar-argus and I met at Hogwarts and immediately hit it off. I remember you guys telling me all these awful stories about him from your time at school, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that underneath that bitter, crusty and admittedly sexy exterior…"_Draco made a noise like a strangled cat and Harry shrugged helplessly as he trudged on_"…Argie is a kind and loving soul and a passionate and…and generous lover."_

"**That filthy fuck **_**touched **_**my baby cousin?**" the blond snarled. Harry whimpered as if he was in physical pain, and Draco's eyes flashed as he mentally went over a list of places where he could dispose off Filch's body without being seen.

"Go on" he growled.

"I can't" Harry groaned, shaking his head and thrusting the letter at Draco. "You read it. I can't…I can't look at it."

Draco snatched the letter up and started reading it out aloud.

"_Of course, we need to go undercover for a while. There are all these ridiculous laws about being 'sexually involved with a minor' and Argie could get in real trouble. But he has a little place in the Forbidden Forest where we can stay for now. Sure, it's a bit small and drafty, but the werewolves are really nice once you get to know them and the giant spiders don't even come this way that often. Mrs. Norris loves it, you should hear her purr! And besides, our children will grow up learning to respect all creatures."_

"If they don't get eaten first!" Harry bellowed as he paced frantically, tugging his hair. Draco shushed him irritably as he charged ahead, determined to get this torture over with as quickly as possible.

"_I want you to know that I have considered my future. Argie and I will return to Hogwarts as soon as we can. He's needed an assistant for Merlin knows how long, and I'm pretty sure I can learn all I need to know to help him out. Being a janitor isn't easy or glamorous, but with Argie around, it'll be worth it…_I changed my mind" Dracon declared, flinging the letter away like it was on fire "You read it and I'll go drown myself!"

The Boy Who Lived picked it up reluctantly and resumed reading. _"I don't want you guys to worry. I have Argus and we couldn't be happier. Besides, the Healers are working hard at Mungos and most of the infections he has can't be transmitted sexually anyway. Again guys, don't worry about me. I'm fourteen and I know what I'm doing. Someday we'll visit you so you can meet our children. Argie wants six, fingers crossed!_

_All my love,_

_Teddy"_

Teddy's final sign off hung in the room like a spectre. Harry collapsed on the bed next to Draco, shaking as he turned to his husband. "What…what are we going to do?"

Draco swallowed. "I…I guess we should…what's that?" He was staring at a piece of paper sticking out of the envelope. Draco frowned as he reached for it. "It's another note" he whispered "From Teddy"

"We might as well read it" Harry mumbled dejectedly. "It can't possibly get any worse" He leaned in to study the little post script with Draco.

"_Guys, it's not true. Not one word. I just wanted to remind you there are worse things in life than my Potions grade. I love you and I'll come home as soon as you've had enough time to cool down. I'm__**definitely**__not at Grandma's so don't bother coming here. See you soon!_

_PS: Seriously, I'm not at Grandma's. Don't come here. Or call. Love, Teddy"_

The two men sat in stunned silence, incapable of coherent speech. Harry gaped like a fish, and Draco looked like he would burst into flames any second. It was a whole ten minutes before they rallied their faculties.

"I'm going to _kill_ him!" Harry yelled so loudly that a couple of portraits shrieked and hid behind their frames.

"Not if I get to him first!" Draco vowed, grabbing a fistful of Floo Powder.


	44. The Amazing Archery of Draco Malfoy

Also part of the competitive!crazy!Draco series- can be read as a stand alone or a follow up to 'Of Bicycles and Bickering'

* * *

><p>All in all, letting Draco watch the Olympics had been a <em>very<em> bad idea.

"You bought an archery set?!" Harry shrieked in horror, pressing himself against a wall and looking very much like he wished he could go right through it. Why was he always cornered in classrooms when Malfoy pulled stunts like this?

"Of course I did! Isn't it brilliant?!" the blond grinned, hoisting up the bow clumsily and stringing in an arrow- a sharp, pointy and highly dangerous arrow- with _very_ little regard for direction, in Harry's opinion.

"Watch where you point that!" he yelled, flailing and holding up a chair for cover. Normally, Malfoy was a competitive lunatic with very little thought for health, safety and self preservation where a challenge was involved. Equipping said lunatic with sharp metal armoury was hardly what Harry's idea of an improvement.

He watched warily as the blond tried to prop his bow up, nearly falling over in the process.

"Why can't you just play Solitaire?" Harry wondered despondently "Even _you_ couldn't kill anyone with a pack of cards!"

"Oh stop it, Potter" Draco huffed "Archery is the sport of nobles, so obviously I'm going to be a natural. Now stop gaping at me like that and help me practice!"

"How on _earth_ am I supposed to help you practice?" Harry demanded.

"Well, Granger told me about some Muggle bloke called William Tell and I just happen to have an apple right here so…**Potter**! Get back here this instant!"

* * *

><p>Not too far away, Minerva McGonagall was busy having a terse discussion with her colleague.<p>

"Sybill, for the last time the students don't need meditation as an added subject."

"But Minerva, channeling the mind into a state of bliss and peace is _not_ a matter to be left in the hands of novices. And in these dire times, violence and anger are feelings we can't afford to…"

"Sybill, I want you to listen to me carefully. They are teenagers, not homicidal maniacs. They are happy, healthy and none- not even _one_ of them- harbours violent tendencies or poses a danger to…"

**"Leave me alone, you lunatic! Get away, I say!"**

**"Potter! Stand still a minute so I can aim, you dodgy git!"**

The professors watched flabbergasted as Harry Potter careened down the hallway shrieking like a little girl. Draco Malfoy was at his heels- pursuing him like a man on a mission and armed with a bow and arrow.

Awkward silence hung in the air as they departed. It was Professor Trelawney who finally spoke up. "I'll just get those yoga mats ready then, shall I?"

"Hurry, Sybill" Minerva sighed, rubbing her temples "Hurry."


	45. Thump

_Thump_.

The noise echoed in the resounding silence and Draco stiffened as he instinctively reached for his wand. If there was one thing life had taught him, it was that thumps were never good. Particularly when said thumps occurred at eleven in the night in an empty house. Draco cursed himself for letting Harry go gallivanting with his bunch of Gryffindor buffoons tonight.

Now here he was, stranded with a potential serial killer slash werewolf slash axe murdering psychopath between him and the nearest Floo.

_Thump_.

Draco forced himself to remain calm. Compulsively, he gripped his wand. It helped a bit. He was armed, and he was a capable wizard. Whatever it was, he would handle it. Or at the very least, stun it and run screaming like a teenage girl in one of those Muggle slasher movies.

Taking a deep breath, he moved forward stealthily. In the darkness, he let his hearing guide him to his enemy.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Eyes narrowed and teeth bared, Draco lifted his wand and cast a strong Lumos. Light flooded through the room and the blond wizard blinked as his would be attacker collapsed to the floor in a whining, complaining heap.

"Oi! Who turned on th' fucking sun?!"

Draco gaped at the unmistakable mop of blue hair in the crumpled heap of person on his floor.

"_Teddy?_"

The fifteen year old glared up at him with accusing, very glazed brown eyes. "That was unnece…unnecess…not cool!" he informed Draco, crossing his arms disapprovingly. Draco suspected it would have had more of an impact if he wasn't still plastered across the floor.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" he demanded, trying to hoist Teddy off the floor. The boy swayed dangerously as he stood, and Draco placed a steadying hand on his arm. Teddy blinked groggily at him. He was a mess. His clothes were muddy and he'd obviously hiked up here. Plus, he positively reeked of alcohol. Draco stifled a groan. Andromeda was going to kill him. "What are you doing here?" he repeated sternly, determined to get an explanation out of the boy.

"Wanted ter see you" Teddy slurred cheerfully "Cause…cause you're my favoritest cousin in th' whole wide world."

Draco was quite willing to take his word for it, but Teddy seemed to think that demonstrations were in order. He threw his arms around Draco and slumped against him with a sloppy grin, nuzzling against the older man like a crooning cat.

Wonderful.

"And this sudden bout of affection wouldn't have anything to do with you being sloshed six ways to Sunday, would it?" Draco inquired flatly, even as he carded his fingers through Teddy's hair- now a white blond, silky variation of his own.

"Too many _words_" Teddy whined "And 'm not wasteded."

Despite his exasperation, Draco's lips quirked. "Oh? Then walk backwards and count to ten."

"What am I- an acrobat?"

The blond shook his head and shepherded his hapless charge up the stairs. Teddy lurched and stumbled, but kept up a steady stream of cheery babbling all the way.

"…an' then they were all like 'No way your godfather took down fifteen Death Eaters with a couple ninja stars' and I was like 'Yeah, he did' and they were like 'Nu- uh' an' I was like 'uh- huh' and they were like…"

"I think I get the idea, Ted."

"Can we get a wine cellar? Connor has one. But I think I drank it…"

"I'll get back to you on that one."

"Can I have some pie?"

"No."

"Do you love me?"

"Teddy…"

"I am so grounded, aren't I?"

"I'm thinking till college."

Thankfully Teddy's bedroom came into sight. Draco dragged the boy in and hauled him across the mattress, ignoring his mewl of protest. Teddy slumped half against his bed, holding his head and looking rather sorry for himself. "When did we buy the spinnin' ceiling?" he whined petulantly.

Draco had had enough. "Go to sleep" he snapped, exasperated and annoyed "We'll discuss this incident in the morning. _Without_ a Hangover Potion. I hope you're looking forward to it."

He turned on his heel, fully intending to stalk off when a small voice broke out. "Don't go, Dray. Please stay?"

Damn it.

Teddy was staring at him with impossibly wide, brown eyes. His messy, temporarily blond hair poked out at all angles and he was curled up on one side of his bed, looking for all the world like the two year old Draco had first laid eyes on.

_Damn_ it.

He was only human.

"Budge over" the blond sighed, sitting down on the bed. Teddy let out a small cry of delight and immediately settled his head on Draco's lap.

"Brat" Draco declared fondly, stroking his hair gently. Teddy snuggled against him, making small humming noises every now and then. "At least we know you're a cuddly drunk" Draco quipped, amused.

They sat quietly, save for the occasional sigh from Teddy. "Are you still mad at me?" he asked finally.

"A little" Draco answered frankly "Mostly, I'm worried. This isn't anything like you."

Teddy curled closer to his cousin, trying to voice his scattered thoughts. He settled for mumbling. "Was a stupid party anyway..."

"Go on." Draco encouraged, stroking the younger boy's cheek with his thumb.

"I just…I didn't want them to think I was lame or something. I didn't mean for…and then everything went all _blurry _and_ weird_ and I freaked out. I just wanted to see you and…you think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"I think you're fifteen" Draco replied softly "But take it from someone who knows, Ted. You don't do something just because you're pressured into it. It's hard, I get it. But I know you're better than that. You're better than this."

"You think so?" He sounded so hopeful…Draco couldn't help but smile.

"Go to sleep, Ted. I'll see you in the morning"

"I love you, Dray."

"I love you too, my prince."

Twenty minutes later, Teddy was fast asleep and an exhausted Draco was trudging up to bed. It had been some night, and he was glad it was over. All he wanted to do was fucking sleep and…

_Thump._

_Thump. Thump._

Draco's eyes narrowed and he picked up his discarded wand.

Obviously, Teddy was up and wrecking drunken mayhem again. Merlin, that boy was getting grounded till the end of time! Squaring his shoulders Draco stalked out again, ready to unleash his wrath on his wayward nuisance of a cousin. Oh, he was going to…

He stopped short as he took in the sight in front of him. This time, there was a dark haired, green eyed someone painted across his living room floor. And he was clutching on to a bottle of Ogden's Old like his life depended on it.

"When did we get th' spinnin' ceiling?" Harry inquired, eyes wide with drunken awe.

Draco smacked his forehead.

It was going to be a _very_ long night.


	46. The Favorite

A follow up of **Courage**.

This one written on the basis of a real life incident ^^ related by faceofboe87 on LJ.

* * *

><p>Back when he had been a naïve young man Draco Malfoy had assumed that the most difficult situation he would ever have to deal with was a War, the imminent possibility of death and fear for his very existence. Four kids and one Harry later, he was a wiser, wearier man.<p>

"**No!** I won't get a shot! I won't! _Grandfather_ will hear about this!"

"I love my kids" Draco chanted desperately, attempting to drag a reluctant, squirming Scorpius into St Mungos and balancing little Lily on his hip at the same time. "I love my kids. I love my…**Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy Potter!** Get back here this instant!"

Draco groaned as his slippery son squirmed away and hurtled down the hospital hallways like a Firebolt. In his arms, Lily cooed happily. Draco chuckled as his littlest gazed up at him with adoring, brown eyes and he pinched her chubby cheek gently.

"_You_ are my new favorite" he announced.

"Dada!" Lily replied cheerfully, proceeding to stick her fist in her mouth.

"Come on then" Draco sighed, pulling out his wand "Let's try _accioing_ your brother."

* * *

><p>"Repeat after me" Draco gritted out, as he dragged his reluctant eight year old towards the Healer's office "<em>I will not attempt to call Child Services on my loving, wonderful, <em>_**very**__ forgiving father._"

Scorpius struggled petulantly in his grip, dragging his feet all the way. Lily was far more buoyant; nestled in her father's arms and happily batting her brother over the head with occasional reprimands of "Bad Bob! Bad!"

"Will you please tell her that's not my name? She calls Albus 'Al', she calls James 'Jayjay'...how come _I_ have to be Bob?" Scorpius complained. Lily responded with an_ "ack!"_ and batted him again, making the boy scowl.

Draco chuckled. "She's barely two, son. 'Scorpius Hyperion' might be a bit out of her league" he drawled. "Now, come on. The Healer is waiting."

The mention of the dreaded Healer elicited another alarmed squeak and escape attempt from his offspring. Draco held on tight and with a superhuman effort, he managed to shepherd them all into the office.

Healer Stein raised an eyebrow at the curious contingent. "The Malfoy Potters, I presume?" he enquired with the tone of a man who hoped the answer was "_nope, not even close_".

"Sadly, yes" Draco sighed, shaking hands with him. The Healer cooed briefly at Lily and smiled brightly at a sulking Scorpius. "Here for our yearly flu shot, are we?"

Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say. Scorpius screwed up his face and burst into tears, Draco groaned and Lily blinked, reaching for her brother worriedly. "B-bob?" she whimpered.

Scorpius continued to sniffle and Draco sighed, hastening to intervene. He set Lily down gently- steadying her as she wobbled- and gathered his son up, rubbing his back soothingly. "Hush" he whispered soothingly "You're all right. Everything's all right. Father's here."

"D-d-don't want a sh-shot!" Scorpius stuttered, snuffling into Draco's shirt. "It's g-gonna hurt!"

"_Bob_!" Lily cried, clearly distressed at the sight of her sobbing brother. "Dada, Bob sad!" She toddled over and wrapped her chubby arms around Scorpius torso, gazing up him with large, wet eyes. The blond sniffed and patted her hair awkwardly.

"It's okay, Lily," Draco murmured as well "He'll be fine. You'll be _fine,_" he added firmly, turning to Scorpius. "I know you can do this, son. I just need you to be brave, okay?"

Scorpius looked like he wanted to argue, but he settled for nodding weakly. Draco smiled and ruffled his hair gently, before letting go.

"Are we all set now?" the Healer asked with false cheeriness. He was already preparing the syringe. Scorpius paled even more at the sight of the sharp, glinting needle but to his credit, he nodded weakly and allowed Draco to herd him over.

Lily pouted, watching them and chewing her fist uneasily. She didn't know why Bob was so upset, but she didn't like it. And she certainly didn't like the bad man holding the sharp, pointy thingy either. Especially when he pointed it at Bob like that! Lily's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"This won't hurt at all!" Healer Stein grinned, wielding the vaccine. Scorpius shrank against Draco who murmured words of comfort. He was too occupied to pay attention to his youngest- a big mistake.

Lily stood stock still, glaring at the scene and gurgling in sheer outrage. Bad Man was attacking her Bob! _Nobody_ hurt Lily's Bob! With a surge of determination, she hoisted herself up and tottered over to the would be attacker as fast as her stout little legs would carry her.

In seconds, her target was well within reach. Lily caught one more glance of her brother's terrified expression. It was enough to cement her resolve.

She bared her teeth and pounced.

**"AUUUGH!"**

* * *

><p>Harry raised an eyebrow as his mutinous husband entered their small flat, followed by a grinning Scorpius and a smug looking Lily. Oh, this would not be good.<p>

"Do I want to know?" he asked carefully.

His husband shot him a sour look. "Well Harry, let's put it this way- your son is not getting into Gryffindor, your daughter used a Healer as a teething ring and we are no longer welcome at the St. Mungos' Pediatrics Ward. If you need me, I'll be upstairs. Until Thursday."

Harry stared, utterly flummoxed as his husband trudged off. Bemusedly he turned to ask Scorpius what had happened.

His son was grinning fondly and had set Lily up on his shoulders. "_You_ are my new favorite" he declared, hoisting his giggling sister up and walking off.

Harry shook his head. Maybe he didn't need to know everything...


	47. Operation Candyman

In hindsight, it was his own fault. Letting those two into a supermarket without supervision was just asking for trouble. And now he had it.

Harry shook his head in bemusement at the sight of his boyfriend and godson seemingly buried under an avalanche of … food. If you could call it that.

Still feeling a little dizzy, he read off some of the items on their purchase list.

"Tim Tams, Twinkies, Cheetos, Fritos, Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Fruit Loops, Nachos, Thin Mints, Tatertots…so did you just walk into the store and say _Hello, I'd like to buy a heart attack today_?"

Draco scowled at him, hugging a giant bag of potato crisps as if it were a long lost brother. "_You_ said bring back dinner. This is dinner," he informed Harry haughtily. Teddy nodded in stout agreement before resuming his construction of the Leaning Tower of Pizza Toasties.

Harry shook his head in sheer disbelief and gaped at the two. "You plan to eat an entire tub of Rocky Road Ice cream and Cheesy Stix for dinner?" he enquired dryly.

"Yes" they replied in stubborn unison.

Harry sighed. Like he had to ask. Determined to remain firm, he turned back to his pouting family. "I don't think so. You're taking this stuff back right now. All of it."

There was an immediate bout of protests, complaints and grumbles. Teddy crossed his arms sulkily and Draco coughed out something that sounded a lot like '_party pooper_'. Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently, he had _two_ six-year-old boys.

"I'm serious" he repeated sternly "I want all this junk food back at the store where it belongs. And don't forget to bring something I can cook."

Teddy mumbled a reluctant consent and Draco nodded despondently.

Harry nodded and left them, feeling quite satisfied.

Draco waited until he heard the door slam and sprang up, ready for action.

"Operation Candyman, go go go!" he barked urgently, pulling out a wand.

Teddy nodded resolutely and set to work, stacking up their treasure in a convenient pile with the determined resolve of a soldier. This was a delicate operation and they couldn't take any risks. The stakes were too high- there were Thin Mints and Twinkies out there, for Merlin's sake!

"How long will the Shrinking Spell last?" Teddy demanded as Draco cast a hurried spell on the giant pile of junk food. The cousins watched gleefully as it reduced to a convenient handful.

"Until midnight" Draco replied, prying open a loose floorboard and stuffing their stash in carefully. Teddy shoved in some stray candy packets and put the floor board back in place, dusting his hands in satisfaction. He flashed a grin at his cousin, who smirked back.

"See you here at midnight?"

"If you're late, I can't promise any Twinkies."

They nodded in silent agreement and departed, wearing twin looks of smug satisfaction.

Victory was sweet.


	48. Red Leaves First

**A little bit of fluff written for Slythindor100's Fall challenge: to use at least ten of the following words in a fic- autumn, leaves, orange, red, crisp, adore,** **tart,** serendipity, **abrupt,** spill. extraneous, **laugh,** reward, crystal, **distracted**, reflection, **touch, chill, persnickety, apple**.

**I got fourteen *preens***

**Enjoy (and review) ^^**

* * *

><p>There was something about autumn that brought back memories. The crisp air, the slight chill in the wind, the warm colors; they made those snatches of childhood recollection so real he could almost reach out and touch them.<p>

Draco bit into his apple, enjoying the tart flavor as he walked across the Manor grounds. This was where he had spent most of his time as a child. Mother had always been worried that he spent too much time by himself, but Draco had never had a problem with being alone.

A carpet of red and orange leaves blanketed the gardens at this time of year. Draco stepped on one, smirking as it emitted a most pleasant crunch. This had been a favorite pastime when he was six.

Red leaves first, orange leaves later.

He hesitated and took a moment to look around guardedly. Not a soul in sight. With a grin, Draco launched himself at a large pile of leaves, scattering them all around and proceeding to stomp on any leaf that qualified.

_Crunch. Crunch crunch crunch._

Merlin, that felt good.

He was so distracted that he didn't even register another presence until a laugh rang out. Draco's shenanigans came to an abrupt halt and he whirled around. Harry was standing a little way off, hands shoved in his coat pockets and green eyes glinting with mirth. "Just when I thought I couldn't adore you more," he chuckled.

Draco flushed and threw the apple at him, only sort of aiming for Potter's stupid head. Ever the Seeker, he caught it neatly and took a bite, walking forward as he did. Stepping on orange leaves, all the way.

"No!" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself.

Potter halted. "What's wrong?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.

Draco bit his lip and hesitated; then blundered forth steeling himself for more teasing. "Red leaves first, orange leaves later." He crossed his arms defensively, daring Potter to argue.

The other man looked like he was fighting to keep a straight face, but his eyes were warm and indulgent. "That's the rule, is it?" he confirmed.

"It's the law, Potter."

This time, Potter threw his head back and laughed. But to his credit, he took care to only step on red leaves as he made his way towards Draco. When he was close enough, he reached out and grabbed the blond, pulling him into a kiss.

"Persnickety git" he murmured fondly against Draco's lips.

Draco wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and deepened the kiss. He had never had a problem with being alone, but this was so much better.


	49. Operation Candyman 2

**A sequel to Operation Candyman, written for some lovely people who requested an end to the madness. So this goes out to Kathy5645, TyntylaGirl and the lovely, lovely Furrina for being so wonderful encouraging and insightful.**

**Thank you all for liking this so much :D **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

><p>It was no accident that Harry discovered the candy stash under the loose floorboard. He owed his latest discovery to years of training, an inherent sense of keen observation and the finely honed detective skills of a professional Auror.<p>

Well, that and there was a trail of M&Ms leading right up to it.

Harry glared as he crouched down and peered at the hidden stash of candy and junk food. An eyebrow rose of its own accord as he realised that the whole pile had been shrunk to fit the small hiding space. This had Draco written all over it.

With a set jaw, he grabbed hold of the packet, fully intending to throw it out right now!

Sure, there was going to be a tantrum. Or three. Hell, if they wanted to fight dirty Teddy might even resort to puppy eyes. And of course, it wouldn't solve anything and Draco would just wait until his back was turned and hide a whole damn Hershey factory down here but it was the principle of the…

Wait a minute.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks as the beginnings of a brilliant plan unfolded before him.

Yes. Yes this could work.

Smirking to himself, Harry tossed the bag back into the hidey-hole, replaced the floorboard and sauntered off.

If they wanted candy, they were going to get it.

* * *

><p>Midnight.<p>

Draco opened his eyes and shifted very carefully out of Harry's grip. Satisfied that the other man was fast asleep, he padded silently down the hall. If he had stopped to check more thoroughly, he would have seen the hint of a grin on his supposedly sleeping boyfriend's face. But he was too intent on getting to his candy.

His partner in crime was probably already there, pawing through their stash.

"Teddy?" he whispered.

"Over here!" came an urgent reply. Draco sidled closer to the siren sound of crinkling candy wrappers and cast a quick Lumos, revealing Teddy's grinning face.

"You're late" he said smugly "No Twinkies for you."

"You finished the whole box?" Draco blurted incredulously "I'm literally forty _seconds_ late."

Teddy raised a challenging eyebrow and Draco hastily swiped up his Thin Mints before they disappeared into the oblivion of Teddy's stomach as well. The boy gave him a toothy, chocolate smeared grin and clambered onto his lap. Draco smiled and indulged him with a brief cuddle before getting down to business.

They attacked with the deadly, silent precision of a team of ninjas. It barely took them ten minutes go through the candy and then they started on the junk food. Draco was fairly certain that mustard was never supposed to go on potato chips but Teddy seemed fairly confident about his culinary techniques. The nachos and hot sauce was questionable as well, but whatever.

By the time they parted ways and retired for the night, Draco was stuffed and frankly, a little dizzy. He shuffled back to bed, biting back a groan as his stomach protested queasily.

Swearing silently, he nuzzled against Harry. His boyfriend mumbled and pulled him closer and Draco settled against his chest with a happy sigh.

His stomach rumbled again.

In hindsight, maybe the hot sauce had been one step too far.

* * *

><p>By morning, it was official.<p>

Hell was built on a foundation of chocolate bars and tater-tots.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stabbing aching protests of his over worked stomach. _Why_ in the name of Merlin had they eaten all the fucking candy in two hours? His stomach had been doing a number for hours now and there was nothing he could do. Settling Draughts took over five hours to brew properly and he certainly couldn't risk Harry catching him making one, so Draco had no choice but to suffer through this agony.

He glanced across the table to see how Teddy was faring. His cousin gave him a wan, pitiful sort of look and turned his hair to a sickly, pale green. Apparently, he was suffering as well.

"Interesting hair choice, Ted," Harry commented blithely, apparently oblivious to their discomfort. Teddy whimpered and slumped forward, his head narrowly missing a plate. Harry shrugged and returned to attack his mashed potatoes with gusto.

"Are you alright?" he asked Draco over a mouthful. "You've barely touched your food."

Draco mumbled incoherently and followed Teddy's example, completely missing Harry's silent chuckling bout.

* * *

><p>Unsurprisingly, it was Teddy who cracked first.<p>

"Something wrong, Teddy Bear?" Harry asked as the little boy climbed into his lap and curled against him. He ran a comforting hand down Teddy's back, wincing in sympathy as the boy sniffed and hugged his stomach.

"Hurts," he sniffed, burrowing against Harry again. The godfather in him cringed guiltily but he tamped down the urge to scoop up his little boy and cuddle him until he felt better. Teddy needed to learn.

They both did.

"Does it?" he exclaimed, feigning ignorance "Well that's odd. That only happens when you eat too much candy. And I _know_ you haven't had any candy recently because we threw it all out. Didn't we?"

Teddy whined and curled closer, demanding a cuddling session _now_. Harry chuckled and obliged as his little one launched into a confession.

"It was all Dray's idea," Teddy sniffed, giving his godfather a watery look. "It hurts so bad, Harry. Make it stop, please?"

Well, that did it. Harry summoned a Stomach Settling Draught in a milisecond, smiling as Teddy gulped it down and sighed in apparent relief. "Better?" he asked. Teddy nodded sleepily.

"And did you learn your lesson?"

"No more candy" Teddy mumbled distastefully.

Harry chuckled. "Probably not for a while. You're sure you're feeling better?"

"Much better" the boy replied, curling into Harry's arms again "Love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Teddy Bear" Harry smiled, stroking his hair gently as he tucked him in. "Go to sleep now, okay? You'll feel better after a nap."

Teddy mumbled contentedly, slipping into slumber. Harry allowed himself a fond smile.

One down, one to go.

* * *

><p>Except that Draco wasn't cracking.<p>

Harry was practically at his wit's end. His stubborn boyfriend had been wincing and shuffling about all day and every time he thought Harry wasn't looking, he doubled over and clenched his stomach, quite obviously in pain. But he stoically refused to own up and get some help.

Harry was still teetering between annoyance and concern when a particularly pitiful whimper from Draco snapped the last thread of his patience.

Drastic measures, then.

Well if it had to be done, he was going to do it right.

Draco's eyes widened as Harry shrugged out of his shirt. He swallowed audibly. "What are you doing?"

Harry smiled seductively, his green eyes dark and lidded. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked, crawling over to Draco and trailing his hands over the blond's chest. Draco looked pale and a tad unsteady, but highly interested.

Harry slid closer, letting Draco graze his fingers against his bare chest and torso. He leaned in closer and the blond moaned as his lips touched Harry's, melting into a soft, unhurried kiss.

Harry shivered as Draco's tongue sought his out, nearly forgetting his plan in the process. Steeling himself, he broke away regretfully, smiling as Draco pouted.

"I thought we could try something new tonight" he purred.

Draco smirked. "I'm up for anything" he claimed, even as his stomach made a sound no stomach should ever make.

Harry fought an eye roll and smiled at him. "I'm so glad to hear you say that," he grinned, pulling out his secret weapon. Draco paled and let out a strangled cry of pain and horror, even as Harry charged on.

"I want you to lick whipped cream off me all night," he insisted, brandishing the huge can of cream at his terrified looking boyfriend. "Just you and me and sticky, sweet, delicious…Draco, wait!" he called out as Draco turned a sickly shade of green and bolted for the loo.

Fighting back a laugh, Harry tossed the can away and sauntered after him.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, he was tucked in bed with a lapful of whiny blond. Draco moaned and buried his face in Harry's chest, demanding a cuddling session <em>now<em>.

This was probably a Black family thing, Harry figured.

He wrapped his arms around Draco, stroking his back gently. "It was all Teddy's idea," Draco mumbled, arching into the caress.

Harry bit back a chuckle. "I know, love" he placated "Is the Draught working?"

Draco nodded, before turning to scowl at him. "You brewed it this morning, didn't you? You knew all along, you bastard!"

"Yes, this whole thing is _obviously_ my fault," Harry commented dryly.

Draco huffed, but settled down again, letting his boyfriend comfort him with languid back strokes and an occasional kiss to the forehead. "Greedy git," Harry mused fondly. "Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you."

"Do whatever you like with me" Draco replied "As long as it doesn't involve whipped cream."

Harry eyes gleamed predatorily. "Now now. No need to be hasty," he grinned, wandlessly summoning the wretched can of cream.

Draco gaped at him in disbelief. "Are you _serious_? I'm sorry to disappoint you but there is no _way_ I am licking whipped cream off you right now ."

Harry's grin widened. "Who said you'll be doing the licking?"

Draco squeaked in surprise as his boyfriend practically emptied the contents of the can over his chest and thighs. Instinctively, he gasped and arched his hips. His boyfriend responded by licking his lips and pushing him back on the bed firmly, looming over the prone blond.

"Now just lie back and look pretty" Harry smirked "Its time for _my_ dessert."

**END**


	50. How Does He Do It

**A little gift to ****Fallen Angel From Above**** who asked for a Dom!Harry. I hope this kinda sorta qualifies *grins sheepishly***

**Love you, sweetie :)**

**Also, this is my 50th oneshots. I can't even begin to thank all my lovely readers who have kept this going for so long. You've been amazing.**

**I'm thinking of trying out some prompt based writing as well so if anyone has something they'd really like to see, please submit your prompt/requests in reviews or by PM. I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best. Cheers, and thank you all for being so wonderful.**

* * *

><p>"Merlin's saggy bollocks, how does he do it?!"<p>

Harry didn't even bother looking up from his Quibbler.

"He's not even here, Ron. How could he possibly be pissing you off?" he asked wearily. Ever since Malfoy had moved into his flat, Harry's life seemed to revolve around two things- refereeing Ron's scraps with Malfoy and ogling at said Malfoy's arse. Granted, the latter took up most of his time and was no hardship at all, but sometimes all Harry wanted to do was sit and read the Quibbler.

Ron didn't think so. He marched up to Harry- his expression one of determined resolve- and threw something in the dark haired boy's lap.

"_Ron_!" Harry practically shrieked, scrambling away from the offending item and batting at it haphazardly. The red lace panties landed on the floor and Harry stared at them and then Ron in speechless horror. "Where did you get…why do you have those?" he demanded, flailing for emphasis.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" Ron grumbled, slumping down beside him. "I found those in Malfoy's room."

"Okay, for the last time you can't just barge into his room!" Harry groaned "If he finds out you're nosing around in there, I'm the one he's going to tear into!"

Ron seemed entirely unrepentant. "Don't you get it?" he demanded, picking up the little scrap of satin and waving it indignantly at a cringing Harry. "The ferret had a girl up here! Damn it Harry, he's having _sex_! With girls in red lace…things! I fought in a war and I get squat! Where is the _justice_?!"

"Malfoy's private life is none of our business" Harry hedged. He shrugged nonchalantly at Ron, striving to tamp down the frisson of jealousy that ran up his spine at the thought of Malfoy having sex with anyone. Especially some nameless, faceless woman with scandalous underwear. The slag.

"Whatever" Ron muttered sulkily "I just don't see how come the ferret gets to have more sex than the two of us combined!"

"Ron, do me a favor and try not to say _sex_ and _the two of us_ in the same sentence, all right?"

He tuned out the retching sounds Ron chose to make at that and went back to his Quibbler. But he couldn't help the way his eyes strayed every now and then to the discarded scrap of lace on the floor.

* * *

><p>Malfoy was home when Harry returned from his walk. The blond hadn't noticed him come in, seeing as he was busy snarling obscenities at the washing machine. Great, Harry thought mutinously. First he shags some tramp, then he breaks my washing machine.<p>

"Your death-trap machine tried to kill me!" Malfoy snapped, finally noticing him "You spelled this pile of junk to attack me, didn't you?"

"Yes, Malfoy- that's my evil plan to off you. Death by spin cycle!" Harry snapped back. He was already on edge, and he was in no mood to argue with the git right now.

The blond sneered and collected his laundry basket, intending to flounce off. A pair of socks fell to the floor. "Great" Malfoy muttered, bending over to pick them up. His jeans slipped lower and just like that, Harry's world tilted off its axis.

Because right there- in fucking front of Harry- a scrap of something red, lacy and unmistakably familiar was peeking over the top of Malfoy's jeans. Harry visibly staggered and managed to choke back a yelp. It was unbelievable. Malfoy was wearing the red lace panties. The image of that thin, scarlet scrap of lace stretched across rounded, creamy flesh burned itself into Harry's brain and suddenly he was very aware of the bulge in his jeans. Fuck, those were Malfoy's knickers! The very thought had him reeling and suddenly, his mouth was dry as a bone and his cock was thrumming in his pants and damn it, he couldn't stop ogling at Malfoy's pretty…

"What are you staring at, Potter?"

Harry shook himself and looked up- at a frowning Malfoy. He must have looked every bit as primal as he felt because for once, the blond seemed out of insults and smart comments. He just blinked, looking slightly taken aback by the intensity of Harry's gaze. He faltered slightly, and then swallowed and took a cautious step back.

Harry had other plans.

Slowly and deliberately, he took a step closer to the shying blond.

"P-potter?" Malfoy squeaked "What…what are you doing?"

Harry licked his lips, smirking as Malfoy's large, grey eyes flitted to his mouth for a second. He was only half thinking about his actions now- and he suspected that his cock was doing most of it but it didn't matter. Because damn it, Malfoy was wearing red lace knickers and Harry wanted to fucking _see_ them.

"Take your trousers off." he said, his voice sounding rough and low.

Malfoy's eyes became even larger- if that was possible- and he let out an adorable little squeak as he pressed against the wall. "N-no" he managed, lifting his chin stubbornly.

Oh, that _was_ cute.

"You can take them off" Harry purred, prowling even closer "Or I'll take them off for you. Either way, I'm seeing your pretty, lace panties."

Malfoy went positively ashen. "I…I can explain" he stammered. Harry cut him off with a chuckle, closing the distance between them. Before the blond could react, Harry snagged his thumbs in the waistband of Malfoy's jeans and yanked him closer. Red lace peeked tantalisingly at him again and Harry growled at the sight, not to mention at Malfoy's _very_ evident arousal.

"You sneaky little tart" he smirked against Malfoy's slim neck "So that's why you only do your laundry when I'm not around."

"Get…get off" Malfoy protested weakly. Even as he said it, he was bunching his hands in Harry's t-shirt.

"Oh, I will" Harry grinned "But before that, you're going to show me your knickers. Now" he added, forcefully yanking at the blond's jeans with his thumbs. Malfoy moaned but didn't protest any more. Harry watched as slim fingers fumbled with the zipper and Malfoy pulled his trousers down exposing long, pale legs and stark red knickers. Harry stepped away to enjoy the full effect.

"The shirt too" he added distractedly, eyes still glued to Malfoy's crotch. The blond visibly flushed at the backhand order, but slipped the shirt off. Harry's eyes darkened at the sight. Malfoy was completely nude save for the skimpy knickers. They fit snugly around his arse, just sheer enough for Harry to get a peek at that delectable, smooth skin. The front encased Malfoy's straining bulge in silk and lace, the tip of his cock just peeking from the top of the knickers. The sight of that stark red fabric against the soft, pale flesh went straight to Harry's cock.

"Fuck, I love how the lace stretches with your skin" he growled. Malfoy fidgeted, apparently unsure what to do with that comment. Harry smirked. "In fact, I want to see more. Bend over the couch."

Malfoy looked like he was about to protest vehemently but apparently decided that whatever arguments he wanted to make weren't worth foregoing a good shag. He walked hesitantly to the couch, and draped his slim body over it. Harry moaned out loud as he got a perfect view of Malfoy's knicker clad arse. Fucking Merlin, he could come just by looking at that! The lace stretched around Malfoy's plump, firm buttocks, riding up to reveal pale, delicate skin that Harry just wanted to lick and suck and bite. Malfoy was trembling with anticipation now and Harry approached him, slowly trailing his fingers down his arse cheeks.

"Such a naughty slut" he purred as Malfoy arched under his fingers "Should I punish you for wearing such racy knickers?"

"P-please" Malfoy stuttered. Each syllable went straight to Harry's cock. Growling, he yanked his own trousers off, pulling his cock out and slicking it with a quick charm. He pulled the knickers back, bunching them against Malfoy's arse and exposing his puckered entrance. Harry hissed and yanked the fabric back even further, aligning his cock with Malfoy's snug little hole.

"I'm going to fuck you now" he growled "I'm going to fuck your little hole while you're still wearing those slutty knickers and then I'm going to rip them off you and fuck you some more." He breached the blond as he spoke, and entered Malfoy in one quick thrust.

The blond gasped and arched, his breathing rapid and shallow as he squirmed to adjust. "Not…not much of a punishment, Potter" he managed, even as he bucked against Harry impatiently.

"Ah yes, about your punishment" Harry chuckled as he thrust deep inside Draco "Don't even _think_ about coming until I'm finished with you. Twice."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it! He's got more!"<p>

Harry massaged his temples as Ron stormed up to him, fuming and holding up at least three pairs of lace underwear. Harry winced as he recognized the emerald green thong he had bought Draco. Great, now he'd have to burn them. Maybe it was time to invest in some good locking charms…

"He's got six more pairs, Harry! Its an orgy in there!" Ron ranted, shaking the underwear for emphasis. "There are _countries_ that don't have that much sex!"

"Some blokes have all the luck, mate" Harry shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. He suspected it would be much more difficult to fool Hermione. Luckily Ron was too put out to be observant.

"I just don't get it" he lamented, collapsing on the couch face down "How does he do it?"

"It's a mystery" Harry agreed sagely.

_Note to self- silk is the new lace._


	51. Go To Shell

**A gift for Vanjalina. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, sweetie. You've been amazing.**

**If you'd like me to write a little something for you, send in a prompt (PM me, please) ^^ and I'll try my best.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Harry sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Fighting with Draco was exhausting and he just wanted it to end. Wearily, he slumped down next to his sulking boyfriend.<p>

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." There. That was a decent enough apology. Apparently, Draco didn't think so. He just stared straight ahead, glowering for all he was worth.

Harry groaned inwardly but tried again. "I know I came home late last night. It was inconsiderate and wrong and I'm trying to apologise. Will you please talk to me?"

All he got was stony silence. Harry pursed his lips in annoyance. Draco could be so uncommunicative when he was like this. He may as well be talking to a rock.

"You know you're taking this silent treatment thing too far, right?"

Draco shuffled and turned away from him. Harry threw his arms up in exasperation. "Draco, this is ridiculous! You can't retreat into your shell every time we have a row!"

Apparently, Draco took this as a challenge and did exactly that.

Harry shook his head in despair. "Every single time we fight, you shut me out. How do you think that makes me feel? I miss you, Draco. I just want you to talk to me again. Please. "

His sincerity was rewarded when the Slytherin revealed himself slowly, tilting his head to peer suspiciously at Harry. Harry grinned and reached for him.

"There's my idiot boyfriend," he cooed, picking up the sulky box turtle and running a gentle hand across its smooth, shiny shell. Suitably mollified, Draco emerged from his shell; un-tucking his limbs and extending his head to turn his reptilian glare on Harry. The Gryffindor smiled fondly at his Animagus boyfriend, stroking his head with a gentle finger.

"Will you please change back now?" he implored. "I feel ridiculous begging forgiveness from a reptile."

Harry felt the familiar tingle of magic against his skin and to his relief, he soon found himself holding a warm, soft blond instead of a leathery turtle.

"I'm still angry," Draco mumbled, even as he tucked his head into Harry's chest.

"I know," Harry replied, stroking his hair affectionately. "I'll make it up to you."

Draco muttered under his breath, but continued to burrow against Harry. The Gryffindor grinned happily. He'd rather have Draco hiding in his arms than inside a shell any day.

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><p><strong>In case you're wondering, her prompt was '<span>turtle'<span>.**


	52. Foam

**Written for ****Sw33tCh3rryP13**** who gave the prompt 'Foam'. This was ****_fun_**** to write!**

**Cheers**

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><p>Harry stared straight ahead, practically rooted to his spot on the front porch. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe and he didn't dare blink. If he did, the vision in front of him might just up and disappear and Harry wasn't about to let that happen.<p>

Draco was still unaware of his presence. Harry stared riveted, practically drinking in the sight of his boyfriend clad in a simple black t-shirt and denims, swiping a sponge gently over the shiny, metallic exterior of his motorcycle.

Oh _God_.

Harry managed a fervent prayer of thanks to Sirius for gifting him the bike as he watched Draco stretch to swab the front of the machine. Draco's shirt rode up to reveal a strip of pale, smooth skin and Harry nearly collapsed. Hungrily, his eyes followed the gentle, circular motions of the sponge, the flecks of soapy foam that clung lovingly to Draco's fingers and damp clothes, the trickle of sweat as he wiped his brow leaving more of that foam sitting tantalisingly on his cheek. Hell, it was all over him- on his cheek and his neck, over his arms and in his hair.

Harry wondered if it was even possible to be jealous of soap.

And then Draco bent over to soak the sponge again and Harry pretty much lost his train of thought. And the ability to breathe.

Wordlessly, he approached the mouth watering blond. Draco saw him and greeted him with a guileless smile. "I washed your death contraption," he informed Harry, waving the sponge and causing some more foam to settle on his shirt. "Don't say I never do anything nice for you."

Harry grabbed him by the waist, pulling him against his taut form. He angled his head and swiped his tongue over Draco's cheek, dislodging that pesky bit of foam. He smirked as the blond gasped and squirmed deliciously.

"Thanks," Harry growled, pausing to nip at his exposed neck. "Too bad you're going to have to wash it again."

Glazed, grey eyes stared up at him in confusion. "Why would I..."

Harry responded by raising his wand, magically revving the bike. He smirked in satisfaction as the machine came to life, thrumming and purring in a very promising way. Harry grinned as he pushed Draco back gently, until the dazed blond was lying on his back against the bike.

"Because," he replied, pulling off his shirt and looming over Draco "I'm going to shag you on it."


	53. The Chick and the Duck

Written for **TyntylaGirl **who is absolutely awesome and gave me the prompt **'Chick and Duck'**

Hopefully, this makes the grade ;)

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><p>It was a testament to how long he had been with Harry that he wasn't the least bit surprised. In fact, Draco had sort of seen it coming. Granted, when his Gryffindor boyfriend had announced he was going to visit a farm, Draco had expected him to come back with a dog or a cat in tow. He certainly hadn't foreseen a...<p>

"Chicken?" Draco exclaimed dryly. "Really, Harry? You brought back poultry?"

Harry stared down at his scuffed trainers, tucking an arm around his winged companion. The scarlet rooster he was cradling clucked and ruffled its feathers importantly, looking rather pleased with its circumstances. "His name is Marvin," Harry mumbled, turning hopeful, green eyes at Draco.

"Oh no," the blond replied, shaking his head firmly and backing away "No. No. You are not naming that foul...fowl. You'll get attached and then we'll have to keep it."

"But Draco..."

"Absolutely not. The last thing we need around here is another cock," he added with a smirk.

Harry groaned at his awful joke. "You're horrible," he declared, giving Draco a fond look. "You're sure we can't keep him?" he asked longingly, giving Marvin a forlorn look.

Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry relented with a sigh. "Fine," he said, handing the rooster over to Draco. "But could you give him back? I don't think I can say goodbye."

The fiendish fowl flapped arrogantly as Draco held it at arm's length. "Believe me," sneered the blond. "It will be a pleasure."

* * *

><p>"What can I do for you, sonny?"<p>

"I'd like to return this feathered cretin," Draco thrust the rooster at the smiling middle-aged woman who was tending to a calf. He looked around disdainfully, trying his best to ignore the myriad sounds and smells of the farm. A duck waddled over boldly and quacked at him, settling herself comfortably on his foot.

Draco gave up.

"Oh, Marvin," the farmer's wife tutted, taking the cackling rooster from a relieved Draco. "We sure were glad to see this one off."

"I have no trouble believing that," Draco muttered. He shook his foot slightly and the duck alighted with an indignant quack.

"He's a tough one, alright," she chuckled. "Oh well, I suppose its off to the knacker's with ol' Marv then."

Draco stopped short. "The knacker's?" That didn't sound very promising...

"The butcher, sonny" she replied, turning back to tend to the lowing calf.

Draco stared at her in abject horror. "**_What?_**" he squawked. "Why?"

A sudden chill traveled up his spine as his gaze traveled from the preening, over-friendly duck to the young calf and back to Marvin, who was strutting about confidently- obviously unaware of his horrible fate.

"Well you know how it is at the farm, sonny. If we can't sell 'em..." She trailed off and Draco paled.

"All..._all_ of them?"

She shrugged in a manner that did not appease Draco at all. "If you'll just wait a second, I'll go get your money back. You just..."

"Don't bother!" Draco snapped indignantly, shoving a bagful of galleons at her. "In fact, I think I'll be making a few more purchases. Name your price!"

Twenty minutes later, he had stormed off- with his purchases in tow- leaving behind a very satisfied farmwife. She shook her head, chuckling softly and patting a well earned pouch of galleons.

"Works every time."

* * *

><p>The first thing Harry noticed when he came home from a visit to the Weasleys was...<p>

"Marvin!" he exclaimed happily, spotting the smug rooster at once. Marvin crowed triumphantly and alighted on the sofa. Harry continued to stare at him, completely flummoxed.

"Draco?" he called uncertainly. Maybe his boyfriend could explain Marvin's encore. A sudden splashing sound from the bathroom caught his attention and he opened the door, walking in.

"Draco, what is going...oh."

"Not. A. Word," Draco intoned threateningly, scowling at Harry as he perched on the edge of the bath tub. A happy, yellow duck was swimming about in said tub, preening and quacking merrily. Now and then she dunked herself in the water, splashing Draco when she emerged.

Harry pursed his lips, trying and failing not to grin.

"She was going to send them to the knacker's!" Draco protested indignantly.

Harry chuckled and slung an arm around him. "You are such a Hufflepuff," he teased, nudging the blond lightly.

"Stop insulting me, Potter. I just saved three lives," Draco muttered sulkily, burying his face in Harry's shoulder.

"Three?" Harry asked, with a frown. "What do you mean th..."

He was interrupted by a long, low **_'mooo'_** coming from the direction of their bedroom. Harry's eyes widened and Draco cringed.

"There's something else I should probably tell you..."

**END**


	54. Crab Cakes

Written for **otakudrawsalot ft. KanaNoHana **who gave me the prompt 'crab cakes'.

Hope you like :)

**Warning: Mpreg (It's not usually my thing, but nothing else would fit)**

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><p>Harry sighed as he wrapped his arms around his sobbing spouse. Draco continued to bawl against his chest and Harry resigned himself to rubbing his back soothingly.<p>

"I'm sorry, love," he murmured, trying his best to sound apologetic. "When I said we needed a new lamp, I didn't mean to imply that you were fat."

Honestly, he still wasn't sure how the two could possibly be related, but one hissy fit and shattered vase later, he certainly wasn't going to revisit the subject. Besides, it felt rather nice to just stand here and hold his hormonal husband for a while. Draco had been going through a 'phase' recently. Or as Harry liked to call it- The _'Don't-touch-me-it's-all-your-fault-I'm-pregnant-you-randy-bastard'_ syndrome.

Seriously, this was the most action he'd had in three months. So he just stood there and continued to dutifully shush his sniffling spouse.

"S-so you don't think I'm fat?" Draco demanded, looking up at him with swollen eyes. Harry smiled and wiped a stray tear away, stroking Draco's rounded bump lovingly.

"I think you're beautiful," he whispered, leaning to place a chaste kiss on the blond's lips. "It's all I can do not to take you right here."

His hand trailed down to cup Draco's arse and squeezed lightly. Draco hummed and Harry's cock took an immediate interest in the proceedings. He was wondering if he might finally get lucky when...

"Harry, I'm hungry."

Crap.

Stifling a sigh, he smiled lovingly at the blond. "What are you in the mood for?"

Draco peeked up at him from behind his fringe. "Crab cakes from the Leaky Cauldron?" he asked hopefully. "With ice cream?"

Harry chuckled, wondering if Draco had ever been this adorable before he knocked him up. "Alright. I'll get you crab cakes and we'll have ice cream for dessert."

Draco shook his head. "No. I want crab cakes with ice cream on top."

Harry went a most impressive shade of Slytherin Green. He considered protesting for one brief, foolish moment, then remembered the ill fated vase and slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Chocolate or strawberry?"

"Strawberry," Draco answered in a tone that suggested that this should have been obvious. Harry just shook his head in bemusement and trudged towards the Floo

"And make sure you bring back some pickles for dessert!"

Harry gave up.

This baby could _not _come soon enough.


	55. Draco Malfoy and the Wimpy Werewolf

**Written for the AWDT Halloween Quickies Challenge at LJ. The prompt was ****_'Do you really think you're scary'_****?**

* * *

><p>Draco made his cautious way down the narrow forest path. His breath caught as a leaf crunched under his foot. Damn it, Draco! He took a calming breath and slithered forward. The sooner they collected those dratted mushrooms for Snape and left, the better.<p>

Halloween always made Draco queasy. Plus, it didn't help that he was stuck with detention in the Forbidden Forest with Potter. Potter who apparently, had made it his mission to prank anything with a pulse.

Well, he wasn't going to scare Draco! Not a chance in hell. He turned around to tell Potter just that when he realised he was walking alone.

"Potter?" he snapped sharply. The idiot was gone.

"Potter, you git! Where are you?" he demanded, casting a Lumos. "Can't you wait until we get back to the castle before you get yourself killed? Merlin knows you've had enough practice..."

There was no answer. The silence prickled and Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Where was he? He'd been right next to Draco and...

**"RAWR!"**

Draco blinked and took an alarmed step back as a bumbling figure lurched out from a tree, its furry arms raised menacingly and its razor like teeth glinting in the moonlight. Draco's heart plummeted as he realised he was staring straight into the slavering maw of a menacing werewolf! The blond's eyes widened in undiluted fear as he tried to harness the strength to run, to scream, to...

Wait a minute.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he stared the creature down.

_"Potter?"_

**"RAAWR!"**

Draco's jaw dropped in sheer incredulity. "It's you in that loathsome costume, isn't it?" he demanded, pointing an accusing finger at the furry loon.

"Rawr?" Potter had the nerve to question him, cocking his furry head inquisitively.

Draco smacked his forehead in sheer indignation. "Unbelievable! I can't believe you would pull such a stupid stunt. You look ridiculous! That is the _most_ unimpressive werewolf outfit I have ever had the misfortune to witness! Do you really think you're scary, Potter? **Do you?**"

The 'werewolf' growled sulkily and swished his tail. He glared sullenly at his paws as Draco continued to scold him.

"You are a disgrace to Halloween, you know that? An absolute waste of fur and hide! Shame on you!"

Potter whined and hunkered down, ears drooping and tail between his legs. He eyed Draco with a mix of wary apprehension and sullen apology. Draco huffed and crossed his arms disapprovingly.

"Now don't just sit there and look all sorry for yourself!" he snapped. "I'm tired, I'm hungry and I'm in no mood for your nonsense. So get out of that stupid outfit, get your arse back here and help me get those fucking mushrooms! **GO!**"

He raised his wand to make a point and Potter whimpered as he turned tail and fled. Draco smirked in satisfaction, as the idiot's short, sharp cries punctuated the air as he scrambled away. There. That should teach Potter to mess with him...

He turned around to stalk off and ran straight into something solid. Draco blinked as Potter stared at him. His face was pale, his eyes were wide and he was gaping.

"M-m-malfoy?" he rasped, sounding about a hair's-breadth from hysteria. "That...that wasn't..."

That was just about all that Draco heard before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted in Potter's arms.


	56. The Perfect Pumpkin

**This is Part four of the competitive!crazy!Draco mini series I have going on in these one shots (I really need to put them together *winces*) For anyone who isn't a regular reader (shame on you, btw) it can be read as a stand alone or a follow up to: A Little Less Competition (Ch 41), Bicycle (Ch 42) and The Amazing Archery of Draco Malfoy (Ch 44).**

**This was written as a gift for the lovely Sanshine7 who asked for 'Pumpkin' as a Halloween prompt. Thank you darling and hope you like!**

* * *

><p>Pansy strode into the eighth year common room, a furious expression painted across her delicate features. "Alright, which one of you tossers gave Draco a pumpkin?"<p>

Immediately, every eye in the common room swiveled over to Blaise Zabini.

"What?" the Slytherin demanded, looking highly affronted. "So we're just going to assume that everything is Blaise's fault? What happened to the concept of a fair trial? Well, I will not stand for this persecution! How dare you accuse me of…"

"Did you give Malfoy a pumpkin?" Hermione cut in dryly.

"Yes," Blaise admitted, as Theo groaned and Pansy's right eye twitched dangerously. "But in my defence, he had a carving knife. Jack o' lantern or Blaise o' lantern- take your pick. That was a rhetorical poll, Weasley!" he added with a scowl as Ron raised a hopeful hand. The redhead subsided sulkily.

"This is a disaster," groaned Pansy, hiding her face in her hands.

"Sorry, but is there a reason we can't give Malfoy a pumpkin?" Harry queried curiously. He had a feeling this would be interesting - Malfoy hadn't disappointed him yet.

Nott shrugged wearily. "The same reason we can't give him a cross bow. You do remember that incident, don't you Potter?"

Harry winced. He'd experienced Malfoy's competitive nature first hand and knew exactly what the blond was capable of when he wanted to excel at something. To be fair, he did find Malfoy's compulsive attitude somewhat… charming, maybe even cute. But there was no doubt that he had serious issues.

"Oh well," Blaise shrugged cheerfully at his sulking classmates. "No pumpkins this year. Who wants to go carve up some Hufflepuffs instead?"

Pansy gave him a stern, calculating look. "You didn't take your medicine this morning, did you?" she accused.

"What are you, my mother?"

Harry shook his head and slipped out of the room, leaving the rest to deal with Zabini's homicidal tendencies.

There was only room for so many crazy Slytherins in his day, and Harry was completely booked.

* * *

><p>It took him ten minutes to track down Malfoy. The pumpkin patch looked rather nice at this time of year. Hagrid had been hard at work and the pumpkins were enormous. Some of them were large enough to dwarf the slender blond who sat cross legged in the dirt; working diligently on what Harry estimated was his thirty fifth pumpkin. A huge pile of carved up, discarded jack o' lanterns loomed behind Malfoy.<p>

Oh Dear Lord…

"Malfoy?"

The blond looked up at him, apparently startled. Harry blinked in surprise himself. Seeing Malfoy sitting unabashedly in the dirt, staring at him with large, grey eyes and haphazard hair was enough to take a bloke by surprise. That was all. It certainly didn't warm Harry's heart a little or make him want to smooth said hair with his fingers.

Nope. Not even a little bit.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and approached the blond. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Malfoy sneered, giving Harry some familiar ground to work with. "What does it look like I'm doing, Potter? Surely even you can discern pumpkin carving when you see it." He went back to his meticulous task, ignoring the Gryffindor as he came closer to peer at his work. Harry's eyebrows rose in amazement at the sight of the intricate dragon carving Malfoy was working on. The detailing was spectacular. Malfoy had even managed to get the slit of the eye and the formidable expression just right. Before he could voice his appreciation, Malfoy sighed, scowled at the pumpkin and chucked it away.

"Oi!" Harry cried, casting a hasty _Leviosa_ at the pumpkin and bringing it down gently. It landed unharmed a few feet away.

"Why did you do that?" Harry demanded.

"I got the hind leg all wrong," Malfoy shrugged, reaching for another pumpkin. "It's not perfect."

Harry stared, somewhat flummoxed. "It looked pretty perfect to me!"

Malfoy smirked. "You're just easily impressed."

Harry rolled his eyes and sat down next to Malfoy, summoning the pumpkin as he did. It landed in his lap gently and he trailed a finger over the dragon, admiring the spikes of its tail and the arch of its body. Malfoy huffed, but continued his pumpkin mutilation in silence.

Harry sat quietly as well, before he was compelled to voice another question. "Why did you carve the pumpkin like that?"

"I got bored carving out those asinine faces when I was six," Malfoy replied, haughtily cutting away pumpkin chunks. "I can do better. So I do."

"And you're still not happy," Harry replied with a snort. He clutched possessively at his dragon pumpkin, as if Malfoy might just snatch it and chuck it away again.

The blond arched an eyebrow at him. "Perfection has nothing to do with being happy," he replied finally.

"Sounds like something your father would say," Harry replied with a grin.

Malfoy stopped his carving and turned to Harry. "He did, actually," he replied quietly. Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He had a feeling that this was one of those times when anything he said would either result in Malfoy clamming up or storming off and neither was very desirable. So he just let the blond open up on his own.

Malfoy replied haltingly, the self assured confidence with which he did everything- including pumpkin slaughter- somehow missing in this simple, natural act of confiding in someone else.

"I used to…you know, just make them for fun. I'd just hack them any which way and they'd come out sort of wonky. But…but then Father would see them and he…he thought I should do better. So I started with…" he gestured vaguely at the heap of pumpkins behind him. All beautifully carved, intricately sculpted and then cruelly discarded.

Harry felt an irrational surge of anger at Lucius Malfoy. Suddenly, a lot of Draco's irrational impulses were making sense- the constant competition, the need to excel at everything, the anger and frustration when he couldn't. Even at something as asinine as pumpkin carving, for Merlin's sake.

Was that what all of this was about? Did he really not feel good enough because of his father?

Harry decided then and there that all Malfoys were idiots. Especially the one sitting next to him scowling at the rose shaped pattern cut across his pumpkin.

"_Damn_ it," Malfoy muttered, preparing to throw it away. Harry caught hold of his wrist just in time. "Don't you dare," he ordered quietly. "It's perfect."

Malfoy glared at him, grey eyes sparking with irritation and a hint of pain. "No, it isn't," he replied stubbornly. "It's never perfect."

Harry smiled and placed a hand at the back of Malfoy's head, pulling him in for a firm kiss. Draco's eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he blinked in surprise and Harry grinned against his mouth. When he finally released Draco, the blond just stared at him- flushed and stunned into silence. Quite a good look for him, Harry thought. He traced a finger against Draco's swollen lips and repeated himself in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Perfect."

For once a miracle occurred because Draco didn't argue with him. "If you say so, Potter," he mumbled, returning to poke at another pumpkin with a light flush tinting his cheeks.

Harry chuckled and started helping him with another masterpiece. The eyes turned out too slanted, the mouth was lopsided and somewhere along the line they decided it would be a good idea to spell the pumpkin blue.

But it didn't matter. As far as Harry was concerned, nothing could be more perfect.


	57. The X Factor

**Written for PyroFyre1214 who asked for ****X Factor****. Thank you for being a lovely reader and for all your comments and encouragement. **

**I confess this little bunny probably isn't what you had in mind for your prompt, but it wouldn't leave me alone. *frets***

**So here you go. Cheers luv!**

* * *

><p>"I don't care if it's 'fockin' fantastic', Seamus. I am not drinking something called The X Factor!" Harry said, backing away from the skull and crossbones shot-glass being thrust at his person. The foggy misty swirls floating on top of the concoction were doing nothing to lessen his trepidation.<p>

"But Harry," a thoroughly wasted Ginny insisted as she swung from Seamus' broad shoulders "'s good for you! It's got…um…it's got…"

"Vitamins!" Ron supplied helpfully.

"No, you silly," Hermione giggled, her head lolling uselessly on his shoulder. "That's _carrots_. And beetroots. And the Prime Minister."

"You've gone barmy, the lot of you," Harry snorted, which resulted in a rather emotional Dean bursting into tears. Ginny patted his head comfortingly- an impressive feat considering she was still hoisted over Seamus' shoulder- and scowled at Harry.

"You need a drink," she declared firmly. "It'll make you less…less arseholey."

"No," declared Harry firmly, crossing his arms to make a point. "I'm not drinking that bile."

"Why not?" Ginny whined. "'s so good. Look, it even makes Malfoy look yummy!"

Harry turned to follow the direction of her unsteady finger. Malfoy had just walked in and Ginny's declaration- while slurred- was definitely spot on. Malfoy looked absolutely delicious and Harry felt his mouth run dry. He let his admiring gaze linger on the glove like silver shirt the blond was wearing. It hugged every contour of his slender frame, leaving very little to imagination. The form fitting jeans tapered down his long legs and clung lovingly to his gorgeous arse- an arse Harry was having a very hard time looking away from. His hair was loose and fell over his grey eyes. Those grey eyes suddenly caught Harry's hungry gaze. Malfoy's lips curled into a smirk that made Harry swallow audibly. The blond trailed a hand down his chest and rolled his hips in blatant invitation.

Harry buried his face in his hands, trying to will away his raging erection. When he turned around, he was facing five sets of glazed eyes and four sloppy grins. Ron was definitely looking less than happy about these new circumstances but had apparently decided that it was nap-time now and the hissy fit could wait till later.

Ginny giggled and pushed the offending shot glass towards Harry again. "Liquid courage?" she asked sweetly, batting her lashes.

Harry gave up. Some days you just couldn't win.

"I'm going to need a _lot_ more of these."


	58. His Majesty,The Reigning King of Awesome

**A oneshot from my old Christmas Collection. Apologies for out-of-season fics, it's just that if I dont post it now, I never will. Just...think of it like Christmas in July...or April. Oh, forget it...**

**;)**

* * *

><p>"<strong>No!<strong> No, I don't _want_ to! You can't make me be nice! It's not natural!"

"Well, no arguments there," Blaise grunted resentfully as he attempted to drag his squirming, flailing best friend into the Great Hall. "But you asked me to make sure you went through with this and I'm going to. Now come on!"

"That's a lie! I never did!" Draco yelled, grabbing onto a hapless Christmas tree for leverage. A couple of wide eyed first years stopped right in their tracks to ogle at them.

"See, this is why I made you put it down in writing," Blaise smirked, somehow managing to procure a crumpled piece of parchment from his packet, all the while still holding on to a ridiculously reluctant Draco. "_I, Draco Malfoy being of sound mind and body- mind of course, being a matter of opinion-_"

"You added that part in there later!" Draco shrilled indignantly, making the assembled first years giggle.

Blaise rattled on without acknowledging the tantrum. "_-hereby declare my intention to provide one Harry Potter with a Christmas present this year. For the mentioned purpose, Blaise Zabini- who will henceforth be referred to as His Majesty, the Reigning King of Awesome-_"

"Stop adding stupid things to the contract!"

"_The Reigning King of __**Awesome**_," Blaise blithely talked over him. "_…is granted full autonomy to ensure that I carry out said intention by any means necessary. Aforementioned means including but are not limited to hexes, potions, torture and/or telling Pansy about the Purple Panties Incident._"

"You promised never to mention that again!" Draco bellowed.

"Should have put it in writing," Blaise sing-songed smugly. "Now, come on! Don't make me take away your hair potions."

"I can't!"

"Why the hell not?" Blaise demanded exasperatedly.

"He's going to laugh at me," Draco mumbled so softly that Blaise could hardly hear him. He sighed and relaxed his hold on Draco. The blond didn't pull away. Instead, he huddled closer to Blaise, looking small and lost and insecure. The Slytherin put a brotherly arm around Draco and squeezed his shoulders gently. He could be such an idiot sometimes

"You know he won't," he answered gently. "Potter likes you. He's going to love your present."

"I don't care what Potter thinks," Draco snapped petulantly, resting his head on Blaise's shoulder. "I just…changed my mind. I don't want to give him a present anymore."

"Is that right?" Blaise smirked. "Then why are you still holding it?"

Draco looked down at the present he was mangling and sighed. "It's a stupid present," he mumbled finally

"It's a brilliant present," Blaise argued. "I'll bet Potter agrees with me. Hey, Potter! Get over here!"

"Blaise!" Draco screeched indignantly. He paled as Potter gave them a curious look and detached himself from his group of Gryffindors to approach them. Blaise tightened his hold on the blond's shoulders, just in case he tried to make a run for it. Draco however, seemed to have frozen in terror and merely stood there, watching Potter come closer with wide, unblinking grey eyes.

"Hello Zabini. Draco," Potter greeted. "Am I interrupting something?" His gaze flicked to Blaise's arm around Draco's shoulders and the Slytherin suppressed a smirk as he saw those green eyes flare possessively. Apparently, he was surrounded by idiots.

"Not at all, Potter," he replied, smoothly disengaging himself from Draco. "We were just discussing your Christmas present."

"My what?"

"Nothing!" Draco blurted, giving Blaise an impressive death glare. His arms went firmly behind his back and he raised his chin stubbornly. Potter looked surprised but he turned to the blond, smiling tentatively. "You got me a present?"

"Maybe," Draco admitted grudgingly.

Potter's smile turned to an amused grin. "Can I see it?"

"I think it's better for my self esteem if you didn't," Draco muttered.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Blaise snapped, snatching the present from the blond's grip. "Potter, catch!" He tossed the present over to the Gryffindor. Potter caught it neatly and side stepped Draco, avoiding his retaliatory swipe as he efficiently tore off the wrapping paper.

"Oh," Potter murmured, turning his present over in his hands. It was a white candle, carved into the shape of the word _Peace_. A red star topped it off making a simple, but lovely display

"Do you like it?" Draco mumbled. "I mean not that I _care_ or anything but…do you?"

Potter's eyes shone as he smiled at the dithering blond. "I love it," he said fervently. "It's absolutely perfect."

"Yeah, I thought so," Draco preened. Blaise rolled his eyes as Potter's grin widened to ridiculous proportions.

"Do you want to light this with me?" he asked Draco uncertainly. "The Eighth Year Common Room could use a bit of Christmas cheer."

Draco blushed. "I..."

"He'd love to," Blaise answered impatiently, herding Draco towards Potter. "Go, for Merlin's sake. Be nauseating somewhere else. And Potter," he gave the Gryffindor a warning look. "I'm watching you."

"Duly noted," Potter nodded, slipping a hand into Draco's and taking off with him. Blaise watched their retreating forms with a self satisfied smirk and dusted his robes off, winking at the still assembled first years. "And that little people, is why I'm…"

" 'Scuse me, Reigning King of Awesome?" a little Hufflepuff girl asked, tugging urgently at his robes. "Pansy Parkinson's looking for you. Said she wanted to talk about the Purple Panties Incident?"

"…leaving." Blaise finished promptly, turning tail and making a run for the nearest staircase. "God Save The King!"


	59. The Penguin Purloiner

**Summary: Scorpius Malfoy has a...unique way of saying things. Suffice it to say, it's rather catchy.**

**Another out of season Christmas oneshot from me. The challenge was to use the following words: ****_peppermint, penguin, parlor, present, proper- _****got 'em all :D**

* * *

><p>"Unhand my penguin, Potter!"<p>

"Malfoy, you dirty rat! That's mine!"

"Relinquish my property this instant, you perfidious plebeian!"

The shouts carried down Diagon Alley, alarming an assortment of unsuspecting Christmas Shoppers. Harry and Draco exchanged wary looks. There were a couple more howls, crashes and bangs from the interiors of the shop and Draco sighed.

"Well, come on then," he said, motioning to a groaning Harry. "Might as well get there before they start throwing hexes."

The two men hurried followed the familiar sound of mayhem, stopping in front of two teenagers scowling at each other. One of them was holding the source of all their troubles- an outdoor Christmas decoration. Draco gave the cheery looking penguin a distasteful glance. Penguins were not supposed to wear top hats or hand out presents.

"Father!" Scorpius snapped, catching sight of them. "Potter purloined my penguin!"

"Why does he _talk _like that?" Albus demanded, heading over to his own father. He glared at his blond nemesis, still in possession of the penguin. Harry shot Draco a helpless look. The blond looked equally harried. Finally, it was Draco who attempted to talk some sense into his fuming son.

"Scorpius, here's a sentence I never thought I'd have to use- why on earth do you want a penguin with a present?"

"It's the principle of the thing!" Scorpius informed him. "_He_," he added, pointing a dramatic finger at Albus "pinched my penguin on purpose!"

"**Stop talking like that!**" Albus howled, trying to lunge for his alliterating adversary. Harry successfully held him back. "No fighting," he said sternly. "And I want you to return that penguin at once. You know, the one you pinched on purpose," he added, his lips quirking slightly as the little blond preened. There was just so much Draco in that boy. He wondered why it had taken him fifteen years and a mini Malfoy to find that smirk cute.

"Ha!" Scorpius crowed, smirking at the verdict. "Hand it over, Hippogriff Breath."

"Scorpius, that's enough!" Draco snapped. "You will let Albus have that pathetic penguin. Here, take this peppermint placard. It's more proper. You can put it in the parlor."

"That's a preposterous proposal!" Scorpius protested, waving his arms indignantly.

"Great, now there's two of them," Harry muttered, earning a scowl from the blond.

"I don't see you helping!" Draco snapped.

Harry chuckled. "Okay, how about this? You can both have the penguin." Scorpius and Albus perked up in interest and Draco raised a blond eyebrow. "Draco, Scorpius- fancy a Christmas dinner at ours? You can bring the decorations over and we can put them up together. I, that is…we would really like to have you over," he added with a shy smile in Draco's direction.

"That sounds nice," Draco smiled back.

"Fine," Albus muttered.

"I suppose that's a suitable solution," Scorpius concurred. Albus growled and took a step forward, clearly intending to throttle the blond. Harry gave him a look and he subsided reluctantly. "May we perhaps pick out our presents now?" he asked. His eyes instantly widened in dismay as Scorpius chortled in delight. "Damn it! Now I'm doing it!"

Harry laughed, watching the two take off on their own, pushing and shoving all the way. He turned to a grinning Draco and shrugged.

"Well, that was interesting," he quipped.

"Just tell me we were never like that, Potter," Draco smirked.

"I wish I could," Harry replied with a teasing grin. "But that would be a fabrication of facts that would frankly, finish in falsehood."

Draco laughed and shoved him playfully. "Prat. I'll see you at dinner." His smile was soft as he gave Harry a shy glance. "I'm… looking forward to it."

"Me too, Draco. Me too."

* * *

><p><strong>Next-gen gives me feels! Reviews also give me feels. Just saying...<strong>


	60. The Cookie Conundrum

**Another Late Christmas Holiday Oneshot ^^**

**Warnings: Drug use, but in a funny way (sort of). Okay, I have no excuse :(**

**Disclaimer: Drugs are BAD. Do NOT do them.**

**Okay, I'm done. On with the funny...**

* * *

><p>"You're exquisite. I want you inside of me. I never thought I would feel this way but I...I think I love you. We'll be together soon. Soon, my dearest..."<p>

Dean Thomas smiled lovingly at the very special batch of Christmas cookies he had concocted last night. Deceptively festive, complete with melted sugar snowmen decorating them-they looked fantastic. But Dean knew that the real magic was what was in them- about two grams of brilliance straight out of Amsterdam, cured to perfection. He grinned again and stowed his precious away carefully in a bag behind the sofa cushion.

Oh yes. The spirit of Christmas was high on Hogwarts and Dean had every intention of following suit.

Soon.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, a far less affable scene was unfolding in the Eighth Year common room.<p>

"I don't _care_ if I go to Azkaban! Let me go, Harry! I swear to Merlin I'm going to find out what color his intestines are!"

"Ron. Mate, come on. Just calm down. He didn't mean to trip you- it was an accident!"

"No, it wasn't."

"Be quiet, Draco! Ron, breathe. Try counting to ten."

"One dead Malfoy. Two dead Malfoys. Three…"

"Be reasonable, Harry. He can barely get to five without Granger's help. "

**"GAAAAAHHHH!"**

Harry barely managed to avoid getting flattened as a ginger blur wrenched past him and firmly attached itself to Malfoy's throat. He stumbled over a couch, emerging just in time to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend and best friend kicking, punching and -in Draco's case- biting and scratching at each other in a blood crazed frenzy. Harry dithered, unsure of who needed his help the most. It was hard to say considering Draco had his teeth in Ron's leg and Ron had his fist in Draco's hair. Finally, he made a decision and raised his wand.

"_Aguamenti!_"

"Harry!"

"Fuck! Potter!"

They sprang apart like fighting crups and glared at him, soggy and furious.

"Well, that was unnecessary," Draco had the gall to announce, drying himself off with a charm. Ron snorted and shook himself dry, spraying the blond with water all over again. Draco growled and lunged for him again, immediately finding himself dragged back by a furious Harry.

"That's it!" the angry Gryffindor raged. "I've had it up to here with your arguing! For fucks sake, you _tripped _him?" Draco scowled and crossed his arms. "And you!" Harry snarled, turning on Ron. "Can't you at least pretend to get along with him for five minutes? I can't keep doing this!"

They muttered and scowled and kicked at the floor like petulant children and Harry found himself on the business end of a temper tantrum. "Find a way to get along," he snapped. "Do it or I swear to Merlin, I'm done with both of you!"

"**_What?!_**" they blurted, for once in complete unison. Harry didn't care. With one last dirty look at them, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Eighth Year common room, leaving two disgruntled boys blinking in the ensuing silence.

"Well, _someone's_ a diva," Draco grumbled.

Despite himself, Ron snickered. "Next, he'll be asking Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston to play nice."

Draco gave him a blank look. "I don't know what any of those words mean."

"Me neither. Something Hermione said the other day."

"Charming," Draco drawled, flopping elegantly on the couch. Something crumpled behind him and he frowned as he turned the cushion around, spotting a brown paper bag.

"I just wish he'd get that this is how we are," Ron muttered. "How am I supposed to pretend to like you? I hate you on general principle!"

"Likewise," Draco shrugged, fumbling with the bag and prying it open. "But he gets in such a snit about it. I suppose we could try acting a bit more…civil."

"Hurts to say it?"

"Like stabbing myself in the back."

Ron snorted. "So, what do you propose we do?"

"Not exactly my field of expertise," Draco smirked, biting into a cookie. Damn, these were good. "I'm sure it'll come to us eventually. Cookie?"

* * *

><p>"Life got you down, Harry?"<p>

Harry gave Dean a weary smile. "Just Ron and Draco again," he sighed. They were going back to the common room after dinner, and he was half sure he'd find it decimated. He really hoped it hadn't come to hexes this time…

"Ah, that," Dean tutted sympathetically. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Those two really harsh my mellow."

"Right well, it would be nice if they could get along for five minutes, you know? I'm so sick of watching them fight all the time."

"Wish I could help you, mate," Dean smirked as the portrait swung open. "But if you'll excuse me, I have major plans for…whoa."

Harry stopped short, nearly running into his stunned classmate. The sight in front of him nearly made him keel over.

"What the hell?" he blurted.

"Am I still high?" Dean demanded, his voice at least an octave higher. "Seamus said the pixie dust would wear off in an hour!"

"No. No, I'm seeing this too," Harry replied dazedly, eyes still glued to the couch. And with good reason. Draco and Ron were sprawled across it, legs tangled and sporting twin glazed expressions. Draco's tie was undone and Ron wore a goofy grin on his face. And they were talking. Not fighting or shouting or threatening law suits. They were actually talking. Harry held on to a table for support.

"Whoa…" Draco mumbled, blinking sleepily at his fingers. "Look…look at my hand, Weasel. I mean…just look at it."

Ron obliged, his eyes swimming as he fixated on Draco's hand. "Yeah. Looks like…sausages. I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," Draco agreed, lolling back on the couch. "We…we should go to the kitchens."

"Why?"

Draco frowned. "I have absolutely no idea. Idea. Ideeea. That's a funny word."

"I like words. They're so…_intense_."

"Hey Weasley… what if…what if there _are _no words? What if…just…you know?"

"Damn. That's deep, Malfoy."

"What is?"

"Are you hungry? We should…we should go to the kitchens."

"That's a good idea. Ideeaa. Heh. That's funny. Sausage 's a funny word too. Sausage. Saussssage."

"Stop sayin' sausage, Mafloy. You're makin' me hungry."

"We should go to the kitchens."

Harry- who had managed a semblance of coherent thought by now- side stepped them as they lurched out of the common room, slung around each other's shoulders, leaving him and Dean gaping. If it weren't for the boy sputtering beside him, he wouldn't have believed it had happened.

"My cookies!" Dean screeched indignantly. "Which I know absolutely _nothing_ about, by the way," he added hastily as Harry gave him the raised eyebrow.

The Boy Who Lived shook his head and poked at the empty paper bag. He stared at it for a couple of minutes in complete, inscrutable silence before nodding determinedly and marching back to the entrance.

"Where are you going?" Dean demanded.

"Shopping!" Harry shot back. "How much do you think Amsterdam costs in Galleons?"

**END**


	61. The Santa Episode

"Come on, Father! Santa's this way!"

Draco sighed and allowed himself to be dragged through the crowd by his messy haired mini torpedo. He was still not entirely sure how he'd managed to get roped into Santa Duty, but he was pretty sure there had been some underhanded trickery involved. Perhaps he should have paid a bit more attention when Harry, Granger and Weasley had jumped up screeching "Not it! Not it!"

Blasted Gryffindors.

On the bright side, at least he only had one little blighter herding him around. Scorpius had been sensible enough to decline the invite- turning his nose up at "commercialization of a traditional holiday" or something like that... and James was "way too old to believe in the whole Santa Claus thing. Hey, has anyone seen my loose molar? The Tooth Fairy doesn't play around, you know!"

Draco had given up there and then. Now here he was- maneuvering Albus through a throng of Muggles at the 'mall' and wading through a tidal wave of crazed Christmas shoppers who were apparently out for blood. He scowled as a woman shoved past him rudely, nearly knocking him over.

"Come _on_, Father!" Albus insisted, tugging at his hand."We're going to miss Santa!"

"We are not going to miss your blasted fat man in a suit," Draco informed him, dusting himself off. "Just stay close to me. I don't want to lose you in this crowd."

"_Fine_." Albus had the gall to treat him to a long suffering sigh. Despite himself, Draco's lips quirked and he had to struggle to look stern. "Don't take that tone with your father, young man."

"But you're being silly," Albus insisted. "There's no reason to be afraid of Santa!"

"I am not _afraid of Santa_, Albus. I just…are those leather boots?"

Momentarily distracted, Draco found himself drawn to one of the countless display windows- admiring a pair of patent leather boots. Maybe muggles did get some things right. He turned to share his enlightened thoughts with his son, only to find himself utterly lacking in messy haired, pint-sized people. Draco's heart plummeted. Albus was missing.

"Albus?" he called out, trying to dismiss the frantic quiver echoing in his voice. The sheer surge of people seemed to be all around him, jostling and fighting their way through. His son was somewhere in there, possibly lost and Draco was about ready to succumb to a full blown fit when a welcome sign caught his eye.

_Santa's Workshop Right This Way!_

Draco hurtled through the crowd, elbowing his way over to Santa blooming Claus. Albus had to be there. He had to. Oh Merlin, what if he wasn't? How was Draco ever going to find him in this…

A familiar mop of messy hair suddenly caught his attention and Draco skidded to an immediate halt, practically deflating with relief. Albus! The child was standing in front of a giant…throne of some sort. It was red and gold and nauseatingly Gryffindor like and surrounded inexplicably with statues of reindeer and elves. Merlin, help him. Seated on said throne was an odd sort- a fat, bearded, red faced character in a scarlet monstrosity that made Draco's stomach sway. Albus whooped in delight and bounded off towards the bearded man before Draco could react.

"Ho ho ho, young fellow!" the fat man crowed, beckoning his son forward. "Why don't you come on down and sit on my lap and we'll see about that present, eh?"

That's when it happened.

Considering the circumstances, Draco felt himself perfectly justified. The sight of an old, leering stranger bribing his little boy into sitting on his lap for a _present _had completely undone him. So Draco did what any responsible parent would have done. He leaped across the rickety, plastic fence acting as a barrier and lunged for his target, wrenching the filthy pedophile off his chair and up by the collar.

**"Get away from my son, you foul pervert!"**

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Harry was ushering home a glowering Draco and a rather chirpy Albus. Neither had volunteered to tell him what exactly had transpired at that mall. Although considering the glares he got from the security personnel- it had to be pretty bad. A passing five year old gave Draco the stink eye and Harry shook his head wearily.<p>

"I'm going to ask one more time- what the hell happened in there?"

"I'd rather not say," Draco sniffed. "All I know is we are never bringing our children to this foul establishment again."

Of course. Harry turned to his son. "Albus? Anything you want to tell me?"

"Father is _so_ getting coal in his stocking for Christmas," the child responded promptly, shooting Draco a cheeky grin.

"Brat," Draco retorted, with a faint smile.

Harry gave up. "Fine! Don't tell me!" he exclaimed exasperatedly. "Let's just go home."

As he trudged off, he caught a glance of Albus taking Draco's hand and patting him consolingly. "It's okay, Father. You can share my presents!"

Harry couldn't help it. He smiled too.


	62. Together

**Another next gen oneshot. I was in the mood for powerful!in charge! Harry and this is what my brain came up with...**

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><p>Prudence Priggs glared down at the youth sprawled across from her. She had <em>never<em> liked James Sirius Malfoy Potter. As Head of the Ministry's Disciplinary committee, it was her job to make the rounds of Hogwarts every other week to make sure that certain students didn't… overstep their boundaries.

Just about the same time that James Sirius decided to do something stupid or disrespectful or just plain dangerous. Most often, all of the above.

It was Prudence's not to humble opinion that the boy needed to learn some manners. Granted, his family situation was deplorable and honestly, what could one expect from a boy raised in a household of…of _homosexuals- _not to mention the shocking background of one of his _parents_- but Prudence prided herself on not making exceptions, and frankly this arrogant young men was testing her last shred of patience. She pursed her lips and the boy responded with a smirk and an eye roll. Prudence set her jaw. Oh she was going to make an example out of…

A sharp knock startled her out of her reverie. James raised an eyebrow and smirked again. "Well, look at that," he drawled, cocking his head. "Is this what you've been waiting for?"

Prudence glared at him. "We'll see how long you hold that attitude with your father around, young man."

James chuckled, his eyes taking on a look of sharpened steel. "We will, won't we?"

Prudence's scathing response was cut off by the door swinging open. The man who strode in caught her by surprise. She had heard it in passing from the higher ups at the Ministry that Harry Potter was a simple, down to earth man. Warm and amiable were the exact words used, she remembered that. She had expected someone more…_pliant_. The man standing in her office didn't look like any of those things. Harry Potter was tall with a set jaw, glittering green eyes and an almost…combative stance. His robes fell on broad shoulders, tailored to perfection. He walked in slowly, his pace calm but measured. No, Harry Potter did not look like a harried parent she could rail at to discipline his wayward child. This looked like a man with power. And purpose.

Those green eyes made a round of her tidy, little office alighting on her. She was conscious of a curt appraisal as that sharp gaze swept over her. The next second she was dismissed as the man caught sight of his son. For a second, his gaze softened.

"Dad."

James was already moving towards him, the arrogance and bravado fading with the relief of having his father here. He walked over to the taller man, standing next to him- just a little closer than necessary.

"You're alright?" Mr. Potter questioned, running a hand through his son's brown hair. James hissed, but his lips quirked up in a grin.

"Nothing I can't handle."

His father was unconvinced. "You're bleeding," he almost growled. "Why aren't you at the Hospital Wing?" He didn't wait for the youth to answer and rounded up on Prudence. "Why isn't my son at the Hospital Wing?"

Prudence took a step back as James launched into protest. "Dad, it's not a big…"

"Sit down."

Prudence barely suppressed a squeak of surprise as the boy subsided without argument. She had assumed- based on purely professional experience, of course- that James was completely out of control. To witness such an obedient response from the headstrong boy was the last thing she had expected.

Well, it didn't matter. If she ever wanted to get that brat back in line, she would have to be firm with his father. Squaring her shoulders, she addressed the man. "Mr. Potter, I…"

"I'll be with you in a minute," he cut in curtly. She gawked as she was dismissed for the second time in ten minutes. Harry Potter turned his attention to his son, gently tilting the boy's head up with a careful hand. James allowed himself to be handled, wincing only slightly as the healing spell washed over him. Mr. Potter put his wand away, looking grim but less worried. "That should do it," he said. James rolled his eyes and muttered something about not being four years old anymore, but a slight smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

His father however, was all business again. He turned to Prudence, his demeanour relaxed, but his gaze reflecting an intensity that made her want to sit down too. "I believe you wish to tell me why my son has been detained."

She cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses nervously, but launched into explanation at once. "I certainly would, Mr. Potter. Your son has been guilty of immense misconduct extending to assault and bodily harm. He put three fellow students out of commission without provocation. And further more…"

"Without _provocation_?" James blurted, standing up indignantly. "I had plenty of provocation, thanks! Those bastards beat up my kid brother! He's eleven years old! If you think that I'm going to stand around and let some fucking arseholes take their frustrations out on my little brother, you've…"

"James, that's enough."

The boy scowled, but heeded his father's warning and slumped back in the chair. "Sorry," he muttered resentfully.

"You can explain your excessive use of profanity to Father," the older man replied mildly. "I'm sure he'll have something to say about it."

Prudence stiffened at the mention of his…proclivities but wisely held her tongue. Instead, she focused her energies on asserting her authority, determined to make James' father see sense. "Mr. Potter, this is a very serious matter."

"I agree," he replied. "As is the matter of my youngest who is at this moment, in the Hospital Wing with a dislocated shoulder. Or that the students who put him there haven't been disciplined at all. Unless you count James' actions, of course."

Prudence swallowed. This was not going the way she had planned. "Those boys received detentions."

"I see," he replied dryly. "And that's supposed to be adequate?" Those green eyes were like jade now- polished and hard. "You do realise, Miss- that these are my _sons._ My boys who are injured and apparently forced to protect each other in the face of bullying- something I consider to be entirely _your_ job."

He prowled over to her desk, and she found herself pushing against the back of her chair despite his respectful distance. "Surely you can't justify your son's actions," she pipped, sounding distinctly shrill and off kilter.

He smirked. "There at least, you are correct. James' behaviour will be dealt with. And his Father and I will make sure that he approaches us in case a situation likes this crops up again instead of taking matters into his own hands. I'd ask that he come to you, but it hardly seems likely that you'll be inclined to help. Good day, Miss."

Prudence goggled like a fish as he strode towards the door. "Mr. Potter! We're not done here!"

"I think you'll find that we are. Come on, James."

She gaped as they turned their backs on her, walking towards the door. "One more thing," Mr. Potter said, turning towards her once again. "If I find that any of my sons are in the Hospital Wing for reasons other than Quidditch, your associates at the Ministry will hear from me. Until then."

And with that they were gone, the door shutting behind them with an ominous click.

Prudence slumped back in her chair, trying to still her shaking hands. She fussed with the edge of the Disciplinary Form that she had been hoping to fill this evening. It lay crumpled on her desk, useless and empty. Finally, she shook her head, and went to make some tea.

* * *

><p>"Did you see Scorpius? Is he okay?"<p>

Harry smiled and put a calming hand on the anxious boy's shoulder. "Your brother's fine. Albus is with him and Madame Pomfrey says its not bad. He needs a couple of days but he'll pull through. He really wants to see you, though."

James nodded and sighed in relief. Then he winced. "How angry is Father?"

Harry chuckled. If that bint from the Ministry had thought _he_ was bad, it was a blessing she hadn't had to deal with a furious Draco Malfoy. "He's been happier. But he did say he didn't expect anything less from you. I think you'll be alright."

James joined his father in a reluctant chuckle, before shrugging in a semi apology. "I didn't mean to cause trouble, Dad. I'm sorry, you know. I was just…"

"You were looking out for your brother. I understand. And I daresay you were more effective than that woman. Those boys won't bother Scorpius again."

James snorted. "They better not. Davies and Anderson touch him again and I'll tear them limb from…" he trailed off as his father raised an eyebrow. "Or I could just write you a letter." he mumbled.

"That's all we ask," Harry chuckled. Then he frowned slightly. "Davies and Anderson? What about the third one?"

"Oh, right. I just didn't like him very much."

James shrugged and Harry shook his head in exasperation. "You know we're going to have to talk about that too, right?"

"Probably. But can it wait? I want to go see Scorpius." He grinned cheekily as he added "And write Father a letter. Maybe if I make it over three rolls of parchment he'll hold back on the howlers."

Harry nodded and allowed himself a slight grin as James gave him a quick hug and took off, hurtling up the stairs to the Hospital Wing. He watched until his son was out of sight, before striding off for the nearest Floo. It was time to go home. Draco would be anxious and he wanted to assure his husband that their sons were alright.

They had each other, after all.

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><p><strong>Reviews are love ^^<strong>


	63. The Screwy Turny Thing

**A prompt based oneshot written for ****SoVayne**** who asked for ****_Draco's reaction to something muggle and modern. _****There you go, and thanks for prompting me ^^**

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><p>A shrill, insistent ringing roused Harry Potter from the depths of slumber. Not one to give in without a fight (ask a certain Dark Lord for further details), he whined, buried his head under his pillow and tried with single-minded determination to return to a very pleasant dreams involving snarky, snappy blonds and about two gallons of chocolate sauce.<p>

Unfortunately, the cell phone was a worthier adversary than Voldemort could ever hope to be and eventually Harry found himself surrendering to the chilling call of reality.

"Whassamatter?" he yawned, trying to manhandle the accursed device over to his ear. The next second, he _really_ wished he hadn't.

**"Potter! Get your arse over here NOW!"**

Harry groaned and chucked the phone away, trudging off and into the shower. He stopped to give his bed a longing look. In his dreams at least, Malfoy was a _lot _more manageable.

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><p>He apparated into the blond's flat, immediately finding himself face to face with a furious (not to mention stunning) pair of silver eyes. Malfoy glowered at him, dressed in a plain t-shirt, jeans and…an apron. Harry tried not to swallow.<p>

"Oh, _sure_. Apparate in here," Malfoy sneered. "Mock me, why don't you?"

"I'm not mocking you," Harry replied, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I don't mock anyone before 7 AM."

"It was an emergency," Malfoy sniffed.

"What? Your hair dryer isn't working?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.

Malfoy pointed an accusing finger in his face. "See? Right there! _Mocking!_"

Harry didn't reply save for a semi guilty shrug which left Malfoy rather unimpressed. He crossed his arms and scowled at his guest. "Unless I am very much mistaken Potter, you're the Auror in-charge of my probation. _You're_ the reason I am forbidden to use magic for the next _two_ years, _you're_ responsible for re-educating me on the workings of the muggle world and _you're_ obligated to assist me should I face any encumbrance during the period of my sentence. Well, I'm encumbered and I demand you assist me!"

Harry groaned. Trust Malfoy to read every single _snippet_ of his parole statement and use it in his favour. Wasn't this supposed to be a punishment? That being said, the brat had the right of it and Harry just wanted this over with so he could go back to bed. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked heavily.

Malfoy smirked. "Follow me, Potter."

"It is way too early for _follow me, Potter,_" Harry muttered resentfully. Nevertheless, he dutifully trudged behind Malfoy into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, Harry had- in true form- saved the day again. "There you go," he muttered, abandoning the toaster and thrusting two helpings of perfectly golden brown toast at Draco. The blond swooped in with a small cry of delight and claimed his breakfast, much to Harry's displeasure.<p>

"What sort of lunatic wants toast at 6 AM?" he demanded.

"A hungry one," Draco smirked, still busy demolishing his toast. "I wouldn't have called on your services, Potter. But that screwy, turny thing throws me off."

"You mean the dial?" Harry enquired dryly. Honestly, considering that the git could operate a laptop, an oven and even a car with minimal trouble, it truly astounded him that Malfoy could be such a dunce with an innocent little dial.

"That's the one," Malfoy shrugged, wiping his mouth on a serviette. "Thanks for breakfast, Potter."

Harry muttered under his breath, preparing to stomp off and apparate home. Perhaps he could still get an hour of sleep before going to work.

"There's something else I need you for, Potter."

Harry cursed under his breath. "What?" he snapped, turning to the infuriating blond.

Malfoy fiddled with the tablecloth, before raising his head to look at Harry through uncharacteristically bashful eyes. Harry blinked in surprise as Malfoy bit his lip. "My...my shower has a screwy, turny thing too," he practically whispered, going scarlet in the process.

Harry staggered and his mouth went dry. "A dial?" he asked throatily.

"That's the one," Draco grinned, getting up and sliding off towards the bathroom. Suddenly, he halted and turned back, facing Harry with a doubtful frown. "Unless of course, you'd rather go home to bed…"

"I'm not tired," Harry cut in quickly.

And then he grabbed hold of the blond and raced off into the shower before Draco could change his mind.


	64. The Return of the Screwy, Turny Thing

**Written in response to ****Sanshine7**** who gave me the prompt of shower!sex and a sequel follow up to** _**The Screwy Turny Thing (Chapter 63)**_

**Hopefully, you won't be disappointed hon, but I have to warn you- I SUCK at writing smut, your lovely encouragements and reviews not withstanding. Still, for you I shall try :)**

**Warnings: Explicit mature content ahead. Do not read if you're a minor/ squicked by slash. **

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><p>Harry groaned as Draco's long legs wrapped sinuously around him. His hands cupped the blond's arse, holding him up as Draco all but ravaged his neck. Wet, slick skin slipped against his own and Harry hissed at the combined sensations of warm water and Draco's lapping tongue plied their respective ways down his naked body.<p>

Shower sex, Harry decided was the best, bloody thing ever.

"Potter," Draco moaned, breaking away and staring at him with dark, hooded eyes. Warm water made its happy way down his slim frame. Harry's eyes darkened. Draco looked good enough to eat, and Harry was starving. He dipped his head to swipe his tongue across Draco's soft skin, following the water trail. Draco whined and arched into his touch, panting like he'd run a marathon. "I want…I need…"

"Another lesson in working the shower dial?" Harry grinned, firmly earning a sharp tug to the hair for his cheek. "Ruddy tease," Draco grumbled.

"You should talk," Harry hissed and clenched his hands against Draco's arse. Draco made another swipe at his hair and Harry promptly grabbed his wrist. "If you want to pull at something, have a go at my cock," he growled.

Draco licked his lips, trailing a hand down to Harry's cock obediently. A somewhat diffident hand wrapped around Harry's raging erection and he hissed and thrust into the grip, suitably encouraging Draco to pick up the pace. The blond quickly got into the spirit of things, jacking Harry off with smooth, rapid motions; alternating his motions with a slick flick to the wrist. Harry hissed and slipped a hand on Draco's nape, holding him in place while he ravaged his mouth. Draco whined and slipped another hand down to cup Harry's balls and he very nearly lost it. With visible effort he pushed the blond off, ignoring Draco's petulant scowl.

"Gonna come inside you," he growled, turning the blond around roughly. Draco's eyes darkened and he ducked his head, bracing himself against the wall and jutting his arse out in invitation. Harry took a second to admire the picture he made, pale and spread out with streams of water cascading down his lean back. Fuck, he was going to come just looking at that.

He smirked and leaned over Draco, twisting the shower dial to raise the temperature. The blond's frown was immediately replaced with a squeak as warm water- bordering on hot- splashed against his prone body. His pale skin quickly took on a rosy blush that made Harry hiss.

"Stop fucking around and fuck me!" Draco demanded, thrusting his arse out for emphasis.

For once, Harry was in no mood to argue with him. How he managed to conjure waterproof lubricant when his brain was in near danger of overheating, he would never know. However, he was not one to question his blessings and without a second thought, he slipped a slicked finger between Draco's arse cheeks, breaching him in one smooth motion.

"Harry!" Draco gasped, arching back against him. Harry chuckled and quickly replaced one finger with two and then three. A little searching was all it took to find Draco's prostate and when he did, Draco rewarded him with a high, keening sound that went straight to his cock.

It was more than he could take. "Brace yourself," he warned, giving Draco all of two seconds to renew his tenuous grip on the wall before aligning his cock to that hot, little hole and _thrusting. _Draco threw his head back in a silent scream his hands, scrabbling against the wall for purchase. Harry's own hands clenched against Draco's pale creamy thighs as he drew back and thrust again. This time, Draco really did scream.

He was buggering the blond with abandon now, determined to hear those gorgeous, whining noises again and again and again. Harry adopted a smooth, steady rhythm as he pistoned into Draco, shifting his angle every now and then, trying to find…

"Fuck!" Draco practically wailed, nearly collapsing in the process. Harry held him up, jabbing against that sweet spot every chance he got. Draco was a whining, whimpering mess in seconds. "Gonna…gonna come," he panted, writhing and dancing on Harry's cock.

"Scream for me," Harry ordered gruffly. Draco obliged in less than a second, arching his back and screaming the walls off as he arched and shuddered and climaxed, coating the wall in strips of white. His fists curled and his blunt nails scraped against the wall. It was quite possibly, the most erotic thing Harry had ever seen and it practically spurred him into a frenzy. He wrapped an arm around the sated blond, pulling him flush against his chest as he fucked him. Draco gasped, but obliged by pushing his arse back. That was all Harry needed. Hands gripping against Draco's waist hard enough to bruise, he threw his head back and emptied himself into Draco's slick channel with a throaty groan.

Draco slipped to the floor first, hissing as he Harry slipped out of him. His lover was only too happy to join him and for a while, they lay on the shower floor, enjoying the soothing sensation of warm water on naked flesh. Draco stretched against him and gazed up at Harry, still wet and warm and utterly delicious. "Well," he drawled. "That was educational."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I should hope so. Does that answer all your questions about ruddy shower dials?"

Draco's eyes glinted mischievously from behind his damp fringe. "Pretty much," he smirked, getting up smoothly and stepping out of the shower. He grinned down at Harry who still hadn't gathered the wherewithal to get off the floor.

"It's rather simple, apparently," Draco drawled on. "Turn right for hot." If Harry hadn't just had the best sex of his life, he probably would have been a tad warier. As it turned out, he merely frowned in confusion as Draco trailed a sneaky hand over the shower dial. The blond gave him another ominous grin.

"Turn left for freezing."

…and if later that night, Harry decided that Draco needed to be introduced to a few more muggle implements- particularly, a ping pong paddle, handcuffs _and_ a riding crop in quick succession- one can hardly blame him.


	65. His Soldier

**A drablet that wouldn't leave me alone. Warnings for suggestions of violence, murder, Remus and Moody bashing *is sorry* and Dark!Harry**

**Please excuse the general loopiness and dark themes of this drabble. I seriously don't know where this came from. **

***is channeling Bellatrix Lestrange***

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><p>Draco sat stiffly under the glaring lights, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his head. It wasn't easy. His last mission had taken it completely out of him. There was a gash in his side and the tell-tale trickle of blood was unnerving. By all rights, he should have been in the infirmary with Granger hovering over him.<p>

But that was a luxury he was not going to be permitted. Not if the bloody Order had anything to say about it.

"You killed Yaxley," Remus Lupin declared stiffly. It wasn't a question.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he replied.

Lupin's eye twitched. "We gave that man asylum. And you killed him."

Draco looked him directly in the eye. "I'm aware," he drawled. "I got him to tell me everything we needed to know before I took him out."

Moody sneered, his face twisting with the movement. "Did you then? How very kind of you to have at least occasional control over your actions"  
>Draco chose silence. They wouldn't listen to him anyway. The Order was an old-school lot who held on stubbornly to their honour-in-battle and kill-only-for-self-defence notions. It was <em>astounding<em> how they managed it, in the face of everything they'd seen.

Draco was a lot more pragmatic. He'd seen Yaxley kill a five year old girl once- before he had made the decision to turn deserter and flee the Death Eater ranks. He still heard her screams in his nightmares. Draco's jaw clenched. Some things were _not_ negotiable. There were acts that demanded swift retribution and if death was the only coin he had, then so be it.

"He deserved to die," he said finally. "And I didn't mind getting my hands dirty." The underlying insinuation that the rest of them _did_ remained unspoken but if Moody's rapidly purpling countenance was anything go by, they got the hint.

Lupin stood up abruptly, his eyes flashing. He stalked over to Draco, bearing down on him. The shadow of the wolf lurked behind his eyes. "You don't just _take_ a man's life, Malfoy. That's not the way we work."

"No," Draco smirked. "Apparently, you give sanctuary to mass murderers and wait around, hoping that they'll divulge a snip of information that we could have in half the time with a few Crucios."

Lupin shuddered visibly. "You used the Cruciatus Curse?" he whispered.

Draco's dark grin was all the answer he needed. He backed away, revulsion written across his sallow features. "You're repulsive."

"And you're a fool," Draco drawled. "The lot of you. Fighting murderers with stunning curses and smoke potions. Forgive me for having the sense to kill when the occasion calls for it."

"The occasion _never_ calls for it!" Moody snarled. "There is _honour_ in the way we do battle, Malfoy! When we took you in, it was with the understanding that you would conduct yourself with that in mind!"

Draco met his eyes steadily. "When I _joined_ the Order, it was with the understanding that you were trying to stop a madman from taking over the magical world. Not holding him off with a shielding charm."

"Killing someone on the battlefield is permissible," Lupin gritted for the hundredth time. He was starting to sound like a parrot. "Killing a man under sanctuary is sacrilege."

"Spare me the speech, Lupin," Draco sneered. "Death is death. Yaxley was a murdering fuck. I killed him and the world is better off for it."

They glared at him in mutinous silence and Draco felt anger flare in his gut.

"Don't you understand what's happening?" He could barely hear his own voice, the blood was rushing to his ears, drowning it out . "The Dark Lord is growing stronger every day. Death Eaters walking the streets, killing in hundreds, entire muggle districts bombed into oblivion. They're gathering resources, making new alliances, taking over the bloody Ministry. What the hell do you have? Try taking down Bellatrix Lestrange with nothing but honour and ideals and see what fucking happens!"

"We're not going to turn into them!" Moody raged.

"Then you'll die," Draco hissed back. He stiffened as a wand dug into his throat. A vein was throbbing in Moody's temple as he trained his weapon at Draco. The blond grit his teeth against the throbbing pain, but forced himself to stand anyway.

"Stay down, Malfoy," Moody warned.

Draco sneered. "I don't take orders from you."

Moody snarled and prodded his wand deeper into Draco's skin. "You arrogant, little…"

"Enough."

Draco stiffened instinctively before turning to find the source of the intrusion. Jade green eyes bore into him, quickly assessing the situation. Potter's eyes flicked to the wound in Draco's side and his gaze hardened. "How bad?" he asked.

"He used a Relashio," Draco answered briskly. "Just a surface wound," he hastened to add as Potter's eyes flashed. The man relaxed visibly, but his eyes still roved Draco's slim frame; apparently checking him over for other injuries. Draco smirked; rather enjoying Moody and Lupin's appalled expressions. Potter didn't notice. His entire attention was on Draco. "Poison?" he asked.

"Crucio," Draco replied. "I had limited access to the Potions Lab so I…improvised."

Potter lips quirked with the hint of a smirk. "Good."

"Harry…" Lupin sounded shocked. Draco allowed himself a moment to gloat.

Potter fixed Lupin with a cold, hard look. "He killed a child, Remus. He had to die. I don't expect you to understand."

Lupin blinked rapidly, looking at the two of them with something bordering fear. "Albus wouldn't have…"

"Albus is dead," Potter replied smoothly. "Voldemort isn't. I intend to change that."

"At least someone does," Draco simply had to say it.

He was vaguely aware of Potter raising an eyebrow at him. Without even looking at him, Draco could tell that the man's eyes were sparking with dry amusement. Potter shook his head and turned, starting to leave.

"Walk with me soldier," he commanded. "We have much to discuss."

Draco obeyed without preamble, following Potter as he swept out of the room. But he couldn't resist turning back and giving Moody his most sardonic smirk. "I don't take orders from _you_."

And then he turned and left, following the sound of Potter's fading footsteps.


	66. Graves

**Another super angsty oneshot, written for the lovelly Cissa The Bookworm who wanted to see Dark!Harry. Because I completely suck, I managed to pull together this angsty, prelude to Dark!Harry.**

**Warning: Character Deaths all around. Proceed with caution.**

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><p>At Godric's Hollow, he left a lily, for the parents he would never know.<p>

His eyes were soft and he had to steel himself against the tears that threatened to fall. His voice broke as he spoke to them.

"Thank you for protecting me, for giving me the chance to live. I won't let you down. I promise."

_Lily and James Potter: The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. They will be missed._

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><p>At Grimmauld Place, he left a black dahlia, for the man who was both father and brother.<p>

The memories of his laughter and courage brought a smile to his lips, tinged with the heavy regret he carried in his heart.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you. But I won't rest until it's over, you have my word. I miss you, Padfoot."

_Sirius Black: Brave. Noble. Unbroken. He will live on in our hearts._

* * *

><p>At a cemetery near Spinner's End, he left foxglove for the teacher who told him he was an exasperating, snivelling brat but had believed in him enough to die for him.<p>

Even in his absence, he couldn't help the wry smirk that twisted his mouth.

"Don't worry, you old bat. I won't do anything stupid."

_Severus Snape: A courageous man. He will be remembered._

* * *

><p>At a lonely grave that he had dug with his own two hands, he left a narcissus for the boy. The arrogant, infuriating boy who had argued with him constantly, laughed at his fears, pushed him on when he was too tired and soothed away the nightmares.<p>

His eyes hardened, as did his heart. His fingers twitched, questing for a wand to blast his murderers to hell and back.

"I'll destroy every single one of them. I won't stop until the last one is dead and buried. I will _kill_ him. I swear it to you. Rest easy, my Dragon."

_Draco Malfoy: Worthy rival. True friend. Soldier of the Light. He will be avenged._


	67. The Thing with Seekers

**Written for angelgirl13 who gave me the prompt: Cat and mouse/ chasing. It started as a drabble and turned into a giant oneshot. Hope you like it, love.**

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><p>When he had made the decision to come back to Hogwarts for his Eighth Year, Draco had expected a lot of different reactions. Pleas for reconsideration from his mother, derision from his classmates and a stray tripping jinx every now and then- so far, spot on.<p>

What Draco hadn't expected at all was having to deal with the relentless pursuit of one Harry James Potter.

Said Potter had grown up quite nicely, much to Draco's chagrin. His scrawny, bespectacled school rival had unexpectedly turned into a devilishly handsome and somewhat assertive young man. Apparently, decimating a Dark Lord had agreed rather splendidly with Potter, and he had decided to take life by the proverbial horns and go after the things he wanted with the single minded determination of a true blue Gryffindor.

Which suited Draco just dandy. Except that Potter had made it amply clear that what he wanted was _him_.

Draco was long since accustomed to Potter staring at him. His sixth year had been nothing but a series of attempts to thwart said staring. But there was a difference in the way Potter regarded him now. Those green eyes held a certain…_heat_ that Draco hadn't seen before.

It made him uncomfortable and not a little aroused. Nevertheless, he was determined to avoid the Gryffindor. His life was hard enough without Potter's particular brand of chaos. No, he was better off just avoiding the git for the rest of…

"Running from me again, Malfoy?"

The low purr startled him from his wayward thoughts and Draco dropped his Potions book. Potter caught it neatly before it fell and held it out to him, a slow smirk tracing his striking features. Draco raised his chin defiantly, refusing to let the sot intimidate him.

"I have no reason to run from you," he replied shortly.

"Perhaps I'll give you one," Potter drawled, leaning indolently against the wall. "Especially if you insist on looking this edible every time I lay eyes on you."

Draco cursed himself for blushing. Potter just seemed to enjoy it. The smirk turned into a full out grin, and he thrust the book back in Draco's hands. "I'm walking you to Potions class," he announced, in a tone that brooked no argument. Draco sighed, recognizing a futile argument when he saw one. However, he bristled indignantly when Potter's hand slid over to rest on his back.

"Keep your paws to yourself, Potter!" he snapped, pushing the arrogant prat away. Potter smirked, but complied without protest. "As you wish," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Draco stalked off with his head held high and Potter's amused chuckle ringing in his ears.

* * *

><p>Draco was deeply immersed in his potion when he felt the touch of cool fingers wrapping around his wrist. He jumped and nearly sliced open his thumb, staring up at wild, scared eyes at his attacker.<p>

"Easy there," Potter grinned. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you doing?" Draco snapped, snatching his hand back.

"I'm your new partner," Potter declared with a lazy shrug. "For Potions, of course," he added with another grin.

Like _hell_ that was happening.

"You are not," Draco gritted. "Theo is my partner." He gestured over to the dark haired Slytherin who was eyeing them warily.

"Really?" Potter demanded, giving Theo a quick once over. There was a clear challenge in his gaze and the Slytherin swallowed. Potter turned to Draco with an all too affable smile. "I'm sure Nott wouldn't mind partnering Hermione for a lesson or two. Will you, Nott?"

Theo practically apparated over to Granger's side.

Traitor.

Draco bit down the urge to throttle Potter. Instead, he took a deep breath, and shoved the knife at him, sharp end pointing at his chest in a clear message. "Start slicing and do _not_ disturb me," he gritted.

Potter took the blade and tossed it, catching it by the handle with the ease of a practiced combatant. "Your servant, my prince," he grinned.

Draco went back to mutinously stirring his Moon Draught, trying to ignore the fact that his cheeks were flushed and his heart was hammering.

* * *

><p>In the following week, Potter increased the intensity of his not so subtle pursuits. The sheer persistence of his efforts sent Draco running for the safety of the Slytherin common room.<p>

Sadly, there was little peace to be found there as well.

"Talk to me," Theo demanded, poking his shoulder. "Talk to meeeeee…."

"No. We're not friends anymore," Draco replied, keeping his eyes firmly trained on his transfiguration notes. It didn't help. Theo couldn't _stand_ being ignored.

"Dracooooo," he whined, batting at the blond. Draco sniffed and turned the page. He jumped when he felt something drape across his lap.

"Theodore Xavier Nott!" he scolded, glaring down at the idiot who now had his head in Draco's lap. Theo fixed him with a pathetic puppy like expression and Draco gave up. "You're worse than Potter," he declared.

"No one's worse than Potter," Theo declared happily. There was silence for a moment and then he added "Hermione says he's quite taken with you."

"Listening to Granger now, are we?" Draco drawled. "Exactly how many classes are you partnering her in now?"

"She's not so bad," Theo defended at once. Draco didn't miss the flush of his cheeks and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course she wasn't. "I'd be careful," he warned. "She throws one hell of a punch."

Theo grinned, recognizing the lack of slurs on her heritage or background as the tacit acceptance it was. Draco didn't see why not. He couldn't grudge Theo his happiness after everything they'd seen. The war had put a lot of things in perspective. With a sigh, Draco went back to his notes.

"You know if you keep running from him he's only going to want you more, right?"

Draco frowned and stared at Theo. "What?"

"Think about it," Theo continued. "Potter's a _Seeker_. He's used to chasing after things that elude him. You're not going to wear him down by keeping your distance. It's just going to make him try harder."

"So I'm a Snitch now?" Draco sneered. As if this whole thing couldn't get any weirder…

"I'm just saying," Theo shrugged. "What does a seeker do with a snitch once he catches it?"

Draco's brow furrowed again. "He lets it go."

"See?" Theo grinned. Draco nodded slowly. It was a sound notion. All he had to do was let Potter catch him. With any luck, the man would get bored with the lack of challenge soon enough and leave him be.

* * *

><p>So he stopped running from Potter. He engaged the Gryffindor in conversation, allowed him to accompany him to classes and partnered him without protest. He even offered to help tutor him in Charms. Potter seemed a tad suspicious of his sudden change in temperament, but apparently the delight of finally making some progress outweighed his concerns.<p>

Draco wasn't all that unhappy either. When Potter wasn't being an aggressive git, he was actually quite easy-going and laidback. He had a sharp sense of humour and a rather cynical perspective of the world in general. But he was fiercely loyal and extremely protective towards the people he claimed to care about. Now that he was officially included in said list, Draco reaped the benefits of having Potter hex the arse off anyone who tried to push him around. It was fantastic.

The first time Potter had kissed him had taken his by surprise. They were walking together towards Charms class when Draco suddenly found himself being pushed into a dark alcove. He turned around to question Potter and his words immediately died in his throat as he saw the look in Potter's eyes. Green turned to obsidian as Potter regarded him and before he could react, Draco was in his arms being snogged to an inch of his life. Potter practically feasted on him, tasting every inch of his willing mouth with his tongue and Draco shivered in his arms. When he broke away, they were both breathing heavily. Potter licked his lips and clutched Draco harder. "Want you," he whispered.

Draco was too dazed to do anything other than nod and before he knew it he was in the Gryffindor Tower, standing beside Potter's bed. The inconsiderate prick didn't even give him a second to sneer at the gaudy red and gold décor, and promptly tumbled Draco right on the bed. Draco moaned and wrapped his legs around Potter. Snogging turned to urgent frotting and then Potter was slipping his shirt off. "You're sure?" he asked tentatively.

Draco nodded and arched into him. Potter grinned and descended on him once more, licking and sucking and biting. His fingers trailed down Draco's chest and tweaked a pert nipple. Draco whined and bucked again. Potter groaned into his mouth and batted around his bedside table, emerging with a tube of lubricant. "Have to be inside you," he mumbled, slicking his fingers. Draco hissed as he was breached. Potter was being careful and solicitous, but the sudden intrusion caught him off guard. Potter licked at his bottom lip, soothing and careful as he prepared him. It was Draco who had to push things further. He bit Potter's lip in silent demand and the Gryffindor chuckled and shifted. Draco stiffened as the blunt head of Potter's cock breached him and he forced himself to relax. Potter slipped inside him with a throaty groan. "Fuck," he hissed. "You feel _perfect_." Draco couldn't bring himself to return the compliment- he was too caught up in the fantastic, full sensation of Harry inside him. Instead, he arched into his hands again.

The Gryffindor gripped lightly at his hips and then thrust, sending sparks down Draco's spine. He gasped and threw his head back and Harry growled. "If you're going to writhe and moan like that, this won't last very long," he warned, thrusting again. Draco gasped as his lover found his prostate. "Yeah," Harry purred above him. "That's the spot." He angled his hips and thrust again and again, quickening his pace to the rhythm of Draco's urgent moans. The blond felt the intense rush of pleasure building inside him and when Potter thrust again, he jerked up and came with a splendid arch. Harry hissed as Draco spasmed around him and resumed his urgent thrusting. In seconds, he was coming as well- arching and shuddering as his climax hit.

Draco groaned as Potter slipped out and collapsed against him, nuzzling into his throat. His gut twisted uncomfortably. The afterglow of sex was wearing off and the reality of the situation was seeping in. This was what Potter had wanted, wasn't it? And he'd given it to him. Potter had no reason to pursue him anymore. Theo's words came back to haunt him. Something inside his chest felt painful and heavy and he didn't want Potter touching him anymore.

"Get off," Draco demanded, pushing against him. Harry blinked and stared down at him, looking sleepy and confused and rather endearing. The sight only made him angrier. "What's wrong?" he asked, tracing Draco's cheek.

The blond sneered and hedged away from the touch, pushing at Potter again. This time, the Gryffindor obliged and released him, giving Draco just enough time to get off the bed and retrieve his clothing. Harry watched him, looking somewhat blindsided. "What are you doing?" he demanded, grabbing hold of Draco's arm.

"Leaving," the blond sneered. He tried to twist out of the firm grip, but Potter held fast. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? Now let me go."

Potter's jaw tightened. "I was under the impression that you wanted it as well," he said coldly.

"Yes well, everybody wins," Draco snapped. "Let me go, Potter. You win, okay? The game's over."

"What the hell are you…Draco!" Potter snapped, grabbing hold of him by the shoulders. Angry, green eyes bore into him, but Draco didn't miss the touch of concern he saw there. "We're talking about this," Potter said firmly. "You're going to tell me exactly what's going through that pretty, blond head of yours and we're _going_ to work it out together."

He sounded so worried and determined to set this right that Draco felt his shoulders sag. He didn't even realize that he was leaning into Harry until a strong hand sifted through his hair. Draco sniffed and buried his face into Harry's chest drawing another concerned hiss from the man. Draco cursed himself. How could he have gone and fallen for him? Potter didn't want him. He just wanted a chase. Sure, he was being all nice and concerned now but…

"_Why_ are you crying?" Potter asked softly. He sounded anguished, and the soothing, low murmur of his voice only upset Draco more.

"I'm n-not," he sniffled, hiding in his shoulder.

Potter seemed at an utter loss for words. Finally he wrapped his arms around the blond, shushing him gently. "Just tell me why you're so upset," he pleaded. "I'll take care of it, I promise. But you have to tell me what's wrong."

Draco couldn't take it anymore. "You're a s-seeker!" he burst out.

Potter was silent for a few seconds, apparently trying to make sense of that. Evidently, he failed. "Okay, I'm lost," he admitted.

Draco sniffed and launched into his story. "Theo s-said…"

By the time he was finished, Harry had shifted him into his lap and was stroking his hair gently. Draco sat there, stock still and terrified of what was coming next. Would Harry want him to leave? Perhaps forget it had ever happened? Would he even want to be friends anymore?

"You're completely mad," the Gryffindor declared.

Despite himself, Draco bristled indignantly. "I am not!"

"Yes you are," Harry scoffed. "Absolutely barking. I can't believe you listened to _Nott_." He ignored Draco's huff of protest and tipped his head back, cupping his face in his hands. "Listen to me carefully, you little twit. This…_you_ are not a game to me. You're a brilliant, passionate, intelligent person and I truly care about you. So much. Would I work so hard at chasing you down if you were just another shag? In case you haven't noticed, I've been running in circles just to get you to talk to me."

"You're just saying that," Draco sniffed sullenly. "That's not how it works. You're a _seeker_ and…"

"Again with the seeker thing," Potter groaned in exasperation. He shook his head hopelessly. "Alright, fine. Wait here. I'm going to show you something." He reached over and fished about under his bed, finally pulling out a box. "Open it," he ordered, handing it to Draco.

Draco frowned but obeyed. The objects nestled inside the box made his eyes widen. "It's…they're…"

"My first snitch," Potter declared, pulling one out. The snitch buzzed sleepily in his fingers before subsiding. "And my second," Potter went on, pulling out another one. "And my third and my fourth and…"

"Okay okay," Draco snapped, shutting the box hurriedly. His heart was fluttering and he was uncomfortably aware that his cheeks were flaring. He stared up at Harry with questioning, shy eyes. "Why…why did you keep them?" he asked softly.

"It's what I do," Harry shrugged. He smiled and trailed his hand down Draco's cheek. "I keep the things that matter."

Draco leaned against his hand, sighing as Harry's thumb traced his cheek. "Are you going to keep me?" he asked.

Harry laughed and hauled him up into his lap again. "You'll be lucky if I ever let you go again," he said, right before putting a firm hand on Draco's nape and pulling him into a kiss. Draco moaned and wrapped his legs around Harry, drawing him closer. Harry hissed and pushed him back on the bed, looming over him with a dark, hungry look in his eyes.

"Catch and release is not my style," he growled, raking the blond's lithe frame with his eyes. "I keep my prizes."

And then he descended on Draco and showed him just how.


	68. The Program

**A bit of silliness from my old collection. Basically, my response to all those down-on-his-luck!Draco fics where he's forced into doing menial work for muggles...**

**Silliness, be warned.**

* * *

><p>Ron crossed his arms and glowered at Harry's telewhatsis set as if it had done him a personal disservice. Which it had, all things considered. The fact that Harry was obviously trying and failing to hide his amusement did not help Ron's mood at all. As such, he felt compelled to voice the thoughts that had plagued him all evening. Repeatedly.<p>

"This is _not_ what the Community Service Program had in mind."

Harry gave up and burst out laughing. Ron scowled and threw a cushion at his face, which Harry caught deftly. He grinned at his unhappy friend. "You're just pissed that Malfoy actually found a way around this, aren't you?"

"Damn right I'm pissed!" Ron snapped. "And you should be too! _This_," he emphasised gesturing indignantly at the television. "…was not supposed to happen!"

"Of course," Harry drawled, rolling his eyes. "You do realise that the whole point of the Program was to re-educate purebloods about the muggle world? I mean, it's not like Malfoy skipped any of the necessary steps. He interacts with muggles on a daily basis, he's got a muggle job- you have nothing to complain about."

"That's not a _job_!" Ron sputtered. "He's basically being a rotten prick to muggles! And getting paid for it!"

"Sounds like a job to me," Harry shrugged. "And let's face it- he does have a knack for it."

Ron was not done sulking. "Just because you and the ferret are friends now, doesn't mean you have to take his side."

"I'm not _taking his side_," Harry retorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm just pointing out the obvious. Malfoy is actually good at his very muggle job, and you're just pissed he's not scrubbing toilets and sweeping floors for a living."

Ron scowled but did not deny that. "It would have made him less of a prick if he did," he mumbled peevishly.

"Well he doesn't," Harry said firmly. "And Malfoy's always going to be a prick, no matter what. At least now he does it to other people. And you have to admit, he's pretty damn good at it."

"Whatever."

"Yeah well, try not to break the telly with all the glaring, yeah? I want to catch Malfoy's show. It's fucking hilarious."

He took a swig of his beer and turned back to the telly. Between the lights flashing and the catchy music playing, Ron groaned and buried himself in a cushion. Harry merely chuckled as the announcer boomed out.

"This is **Comedy Central Roast!** And now, please welcome your Roastmaster- **Drrrrraco Malfoy**!"

* * *

><p><strong>I warned you... :P<strong>


	69. Hayfever Hijinks

Ah, spring. Harry smiled as he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of fresh rain and blooming flowers. He let his gaze linger on a bed of bright purple flowers- the crowning glory of the Hogwarts gardens. Yes, Hogwarts was in full bloom- a tapestry of brightly coloured petals, fresh green grass and…

_"Ah choo!"_

And that. Harry suppressed a grin as he turned back to his sulking companion.

"Isn't having hay fever beneath the dignity of a Malfoy?" he teased.

Draco responded with a scowl and a sullen sniff. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The poor sod looked utterly miserable. His normally pale features were flushed, his cheeks were blotchy and his eyes were red and puffy. Every now and then, he sniffled in a manner that could only be classified as pathetic. In Harry's opinion, Malfoy was the cutest thing since Pygmy Puffs.

"Sod off, Podder," he mumbled sulkily. "You don't doh what ids like."

Harry couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing and received a punch in the arm for his trouble. "Ouch! Okay, I'm sorry," he snickered, dodging as Draco gave him another half hearted push. "But you have to admit it's funny."

"Ids dot fuddy!" Draco protested. "I'b sufferig!"

This of course, sent Harry off in another fit of laughter. By the time he had subsided, Draco was giving him a glare that would have curled a troll's toes. "You're a bad persod," he declared.

"I am not," Harry protested.

"Yes, you are! You're baking fun of be. Everybody dinks you're so dice. You're dot dice!"

Harry would have retorted with another teasing remark but a sneezing fit from Malfoy cut him off.

_"Ah choo! Ah choo! Ah __**choo!**__"_

Harry winced and reached out to pat his back comfortingly. Draco shook his hand off sullenly, hiding in his arms in an effort to avoid the wretched pollen. Great, now he felt guilty. Malfoy continued to burrow in his arms and Harry sighed. He really did look miserable- all small and huddled up like that. "I'm sorry," he tried.

Malfoy answered with a sniff which didn't really tell Harry anything, considering that sniffing was Malfoy's response to _everything_ these days. Finally, he reached out and patted the blond's back soothingly. Draco hedged away from his touch. "Oh come on. I said I'm sorry," Harry groaned. "I won't laugh at you anymore, Gryffindor's Honour."

"Yes, you will. You're mead."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm mean. Horrible, apparently. Let me make it up to you?"

Draco cracked open a suspicious eye. "How?"

"Well, I'm guessing flowers are out of the question," Harry grinned.

Draco scowled. "You're being mead _agaid!_" He pushed angrily at Harry. "I _hade_ sprig! And I hade you!"

Harry laughed and caught his arm, pulling Draco against his body. The blond landed on him with a surprised squeak and blinked at Harry with red-rimmed eyes. "Well, that's too bad," Harry replied cheekily. "Because I love spring, and I happen to be quite fond of you too."

Draco gaped at him for a few seconds. He looked completely gobsmacked.

And then he sniffed again.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake" Harry muttered, cupping the blond's face in his hands and dragging him in for a kiss. Draco squeaked in surprise and his eyelashes fluttered against Harry's cheek. For some reason, this made him want to snog Draco more. So he did.

His eyes snapped open when Draco's nose twitched in a tell tale manner. Harry backed away just in time to avoid another sneezing fit. Draco whined in abject misery and slumped against his shoulder. "Fix id, you stupid Saviour" he mumbled petulantly.

Harry patted his head in a commiserating fashion. "Would you like me to declare a Wizard War against the evil forces of pollen?"

"Yes, blease."

Harry chuckled and tipped the blond's chin up for another kiss. "Why don't we try going inside first?" he suggested. "I'm sure we can find some way to distract you from the horrors of spring."

Draco burrowed into his arms and sniffed again, and Harry laughed as he herded his stuffy, cranky new boyfriend indoors.


	70. A Busy Big Brother

**A monster oneshot written for my lovelies: Aikaru who asked for Protective!James and TheSilentDarkAngel who wanted Family Drarry. This...was hard to write *wipes brow* and I confess its not one of my best but I hope they like it.**

**Thank you for prompting, darlings ^^**

**Erm a couple things about this oneshot. I pictured James as much, much older to his siblings here. Lily is two, Al and Scorpius are six and James is...oh let's say twelve.**

**I always assume the kids are adopted so this is EWE.**

**Oh and monster fluffs. Lethal sweetness is lethal.**

* * *

><p>Summer vacation was a trying time for James Potter Malfoy. Of course, he loved his brothers and sister to death and missed them terribly when he was at Hogwarts. But lately, it seemed that all he was doing was running back and forth trying to keep the house from catching fire.<p>

Today for example, his to-do list included rescuing innocent animals from a fate worse than death.

"Lily!" he groaned, trying to wrestle an irate kneazle from the clutches of his baby sister. "Leopold is _not_ a toy!"

"Mr Fuzzy!" Lily corrected, pouting stubbornly as she resumed strangling the hapless animal. Leopold emitted a wail of pure outrage (possibly a response to being christened Mr Fuzzy) and dug his claws into the floor adamantly. James winced. He had been on the business end of Lily's hugs often enough to know that hair/fur pulling was part of the deal. Hopefully, Leopold wouldn't blame him entirely for the bald spots.

"Let go, Lils," he cajoled, trying to pry her off. "Leo…Mr Fuzzy needs a nap."

"No!"

"Lily, come on! Please?"

Lily's gave him a speculative blink. "Fwoggie," she announced decisively.

James blinked. "Bribes? Seriously?" he asked indignantly. Lily set her chin and stared him down, still in possession of the now hissing cat.

"Fine!" James snapped, searching his pockets for a chocolate frog. He handed it to her, raising an eyebrow as Lily examined it carefully. She chucked it away and gave him a defiant look. "_All_ Fwoggie."

James scowled and surrendered his stash to the little fiend. "Father will be so proud," he grumbled. Lily grinned and grappled for the frogs, mercifully releasing Leopold. He hissed and jumped on the bed, eyeing them balefully. "At least we know which house you're going in," James smirked. Lily giggled and hoisted herself up, tottering over to him on chubby little legs. "Jayjay," she gurgled, snuggling into his shoulder. James rolled his eyes and returned the hug, patting her back gently.

And then she pulled his hair.

* * *

><p>"It's mine!"<p>

"Give it _back!_ I had it first!"

"No! Let go!"

James groaned and buried his head under a pillow, trying to drown out the racket. Leopold yawned beside him and curled up again. James envied him. Stupid cat could sleep through an earthquake. As for him…

"Ow! Daddy said no hitting!"

"_Daddy said, Daddy said_…you're such a baby!"

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"**Am not!** Give it _back_, Albus!"

"**No!** It's mine!"

James gave up. Muttering mutinously, he stalked out to the living room and pulled his fighting brothers apart, retrieving the Firebolt Mark 3 from Albus. "Actually," he drawled, hoisting it over his shoulder, "I believe this is _mine._" He was immediately treated to twin pouts and an immediate chorus of _awww, c'mon!_s. James was highly unimpressed."What part of _don't take my stuff_ wasn't clear to you little gits?" he demanded.

Scorpius at least, had the sense to make a beeline for the other end of the room. James had to make do with smacking Albus upside the head. "Ow!" he howled. "Daddy said no hitting!"

"Baby," Scorpius put in at once, grinning from his vantage point on the couch. Albus growled and lunged for his brother again and they both landed on the floor in a heap. James toyed with the idea of getting some popcorn and watching them have at it until Albus nearly knocked over a table. He sighed. If the gits broke anything, rest assured _he'd_ be the one getting the lecture.

The perks of being the oldest…

James sighed and reached out, yanking Scorpius off of their brother. The blond dangled in his grip sullenly. "He started it," he muttered.

"And I'm ending it," James snapped. "There will be no more hitting. Unless I decide to kick both your arses in which case, there will be hitting."

"Father will hear about this," his brother muttered. James growled and shook him hard.

"Or not…" Scorpius had a tendency to reconsider most of his threats with the right persuasion. James snorted and dropped him on top of Albus, stomping back to his room. He was not the least bit surprised to hear two sets of footsteps padding behind him.

"What?" he snapped, turning back and scowling at the Terrible Two.

"Will you take us flying?" Albus had the gall to ask.

"No," James replied blandly.

The _aww c'mon_ symphony was revisited. James groaned and threw himself on the bed, immediately finding himself wearing two six year olds. "_Please,_ Jamie?" Albus whined, clambering over him. "We don't get to see you anymore."

"You don't have any time for us," Scorpius pouted, giving him the puppy eyes.

Oh, they were _good._

"Fine," James mumbled into his pillow. "I'll take you to the stupid park. But _nobody_ touches my stuff anymore."

"We promise," they promised in insincere unison.

James rolled his eyes and went to fetch his broom.

* * *

><p>Apparently, there was a god because things were finally turning around for him.<p>

He'd flown his pesky little brothers around the park countless times, all the while resolutely ignoring pleas for _higher_ and _faster_ and _just one __**tiny**__ dive, James_. Not bloody likely. Dad would have him for breakfast if he attempted a Wronski Feint with his baby brothers on the broom. _Father_ would have him for breakfast if he attempted a Wronski Feint, brothers or not. So no, James was perfectly content keeping his head on his shoulders, thank you.

Now the brats were off entertaining themselves and James had finally found something that sparked his interest.

"So you're from Beauxbatons?" he asked, flashing his most charming smile at the lovely blonde. She smiled back, showing off a charming little dimple that made him _very_ happy.

"Oui," came the lilting confirmation. James decided there and then that the French accent was single best thing to happen to the world. "I 'ave come to visit relatives. Your country is… very charming."

"Have you seen anything you like?" James grinned, smoothly shifting just a _little_ closer.

She laughed and pushed at him playfully. "I 'ave been warned about you brazen English boys."

"We're not all bad," James insisted. "I can prove it to you, maybe over dinner sometime?"

"That would be…"

"**JAMES!** Help ME!"

James groaned and Angelique blinked in surprise. "You are James, are you not?"

"Nope," he lied at once. "My name's Larry. Did I forget to mention that?"

**"JAMIE!"**

James cursed. "You'll have to excuse me. I have a sibling to save. And possibly strangle."

Angelique smiled and leaned over, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Call me about zat dinner, yes?"

He grinned and took off, catching sight of his brothers almost immediately. Scorpius was standing by the side, looking absolutely horror-struck and Albus was…

"Shit," James hissed, sprinting towards then. He pulled Albus off the ground, dusting him off and checking for injuries- a fairly difficult task considering that the little boy glommed onto him, whimpering and sniffling.

"What happened?" James demanded, patting his brothers back.

"It _attacked_ me!" Albus complained, pointing petulantly at the culprit. James glanced at his broom and his heart nearly stopped. He pulled Albus back, holding him by the shoulders and checking him over again.

"Tell me you didn't try flying by yourself, you little idiot," he scolded.

"No?" Albus sniffed, staring up at him with big, teary eyes.

"Did so," Scorpius muttered, sidling over to James too. "He didn't even make it a foot off the ground."

"I _did!_" Albus argued, burying his face in James' shirt again. The older boy sighed and patted his back soothingly.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. Albus sniffed and shook his head. James' shoulders slumped in relief. Until he realized that he was still wearing a six year old as a scarf. "Do you maybe want to let go then?"

Albus shook his head again, stubbornly wrapping his legs around James' waist. "Right," he sighed. "Looks like I'm carrying you then." He hoisted his brother up wrapping one arm around him and herding Scorpius with the other, lest he decide to go off and do something stupid too. "We're going home," he announced.

"Jamie?" Albus' voice was small and timid. James smiled and ruffled his hair fondly. "What is it, shrimp?"

"Can we maybe get some ice cream?"

* * *

><p>Draco shut his book and reached for his wand to cast a <em>nox<em>, pausing as the door clicked open. A familiar mop of messy hair poked in and Draco smiled.

"Is something wrong?" he asked softly, wondering if his son had had nightmares.

James yawned and rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Can't sleep," he explained.

Draco nodded and shook his husband awake. Harry groaned and buried himself in a pillow. "Wake up," Draco insisted. "We've got company."

"Wha…Jamie," Harry sat up too, blinking at his son. "What's the matter? Are you…"

"He couldn't sleep," Draco explained. James shuffled closer to them, still sleepy and sulky and strangling his pillow. Draco reached out and smoothed his son's hair back and Harry shifted over. "Plenty of room here," he said. James pretty much launched himself between them, bouncing on the mattress with a sigh. He snuggled over into Harry's side and sighed as Draco resumed petting him.

"Rough day?" Harry asked.

"You have no idea," James muttered. "First Lily took my cat hostage, then Tweedledum and Tweedledee ruined my date and _then_…"

It was a good ten minutes before he finished. His parents listened patiently, nodding and making sympathetic noises wherever appropriate. It felt nice to have someone have to deal with _him_ for a change. Dad and Father were good at this sort of thing.

"They're just excited to see you," Draco offered, once he'd finally winded down. "They miss you when you're not around, you know."

"I miss them too," James said. "It's just hard being the big brother all the time."

"Well, you do a great job," Harry smiled. "And if it helps, you'll always be little to us."

James stared up at him with big, brown eyes. "I'm tired, Daddy," he whined. Draco smirked and Harry chuckled. "Poor kid," he crooned, patting his back soothingly. "Go to sleep. And we'll take the little monsters off your hands tomorrow, yeah?"

James mumbled his acquiescence and burrowed into Harry again. He was almost asleep already and he barely noticed when Father leaned over to give him a quick kiss to the head.

His last thought as he drifted off into slumber was that being a big brother was great…

…but just sometimes, it was nice being the little one.


	71. Marvin the Menace

**I HATE Writer's Block. *Sigh* Anyway, here's a very late oneshot for the Harry-Potter-Nuttah who gave me the prompt 'pet hippogriff'**

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><p>Lily padded down the stairs cautiously, pausing every now and then as the floorboards creaked under her feet. Everything was quiet and nothing seemed out of place. She could even hear Al snoring down the hallway. Rolling her eyes, she resumed her stealthy journey and made her way to the gardens.<p>

Her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight and she padded forward, taking care not to trample the flower beds. A hedge rustled behind her and her slim shoulders stiffened. "Rupert," she hissed cautiously. "Are you there?"

"Here," came a whisper and a face poked out cautiously from the hedge.

Lily skipped over to him, a smile lighting her face. Rupert grinned as he extricated himself from his hiding place and enveloped her in a hug. "Merlin, I missed you," he declared.

"I missed you too," Lily replied with a breathy whisper. "I can't believe you did this!" Her heart was fluttering…it was just so romantic! Rose would be _so_ jealous when she told her about her midnight rendezvous. The thought made her flutter with girlish delight.

Rupert Finnigan took a wary look at the house. "Your Dads are asleep?" he asked.

Lily nodded.

"_And_ your brothers?"

"_Yes_, Rupert," she rolled her eyes. "You know, you're pretty jumpy for a Gryffindor. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Your father threatened me with a blowtorch!" Rupert protested indignantly. "And your brother showed him how to work it!"

"They're a bit…overprotective," Lily admitted. She smiled and wrapped her arms around Rupert. "Let's talk about something else," she suggested.

Rupert smirked as he pulled her closer. "I didn't come here to _talk_, babe."

Lily's breath caught and her eyes fluttered, as his lips brushed against her. She slipped her arms around his broad shoulders, standing up on tip toes to deepen the kiss.

Neither noticed a steely pair of eyes watching them from behind the hedge. Nor did they hear the quiet rustle of the leaves or the stealthy padding of their attacker. His lithe form arched and the muscles of his flanks quivered with agitation. Those steely eyes narrowed in determination as he prepared to pounce and they still didn't notice.

And then it was too late. He drew back and charged head-first for the couple with an ear splitting battle cry. Rupert noticed a second too late and he squawked in alarm, falling to the ground limbs flailing and eyes wide with terror. Lily shrieked as the attacker brushed past her, shepherding her to safety before turning and glaring down at Rupert with murder in his eyes.

**"Marvin!"** she screeched, recognizing the culprit. Rupert was dangling by the scruff of his neck now, being shaken like a rat. Lily emitted a shriek that would have shamed a harpy. "Let him go **this instant, **you overbearing brute!"

**"Help!"** Rupert howled. "He's going to eat me! Somebody **HELP!**"

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><p>Harry and Draco hurtled down the stairs, nearly colliding with their sons. James was wielding his Beaters Bat and Al and Scorpius had a handful of dung-bombs ready. "Code Red?" Albus asked. Draco nodded grimly at his son. "Looks like it," he replied.<p>

With brusque nods and unified looks of determination, they marched down the stairs and into the garden. Lily caught sight of them and her eyes narrowed in pure outrage. "Daddy!" she screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. "Call your pet monster off my boyfriend this second!"

Harry snickered but obliged. "Down, Marvin," he called. The hippogriff turned to give him a haughty look, his feathers ruffling indignantly. But he tossed Rupert to the ground obligingly, turning his beak up at the crumpled heap of boy before cantering off.

"Evening, Finnigan," Draco greeted dryly, arching an eyebrow at the shaky, young man.

"Hello s-sir," Rupert mumbled, standing up and dusting himself off awkwardly. Lily whimpered something about _mortifying_ and _never showing my face in public again_ and buried her face in her hands. Her brothers however, looked like Christmas had come early.

"Well well well. What have we here, Albus?" Scorpius drawled, tossing a dung-bomb idly in the air.

Albus smirked at his brother, holding up his own weapon. "Why I don't know, Scorp. Looks like a moving target to me."

Lily rounded up on both of them, eyes blazing. "Do it and _die!_" she intoned in a livid hiss. The boys squeaked and took cover behind Draco, all bravado forgotten. James rolled his eyes. "Amateurs," he put in with a long suffering sigh.

Harry shook his head at his small contingent, before turning back to his victim. "Finnigan," he said sternly. "At what point exactly did this seem like a good idea?"

"Daddy…" Lily began.

"Not a word, young lady," Harry cut in firmly. "Upstairs, now. And consider yourself grounded until further notice."

"This is so _unfair!_" Lily shrieked. But she turned on her heel and stomped back inside anyway. Harry suppressed a grin and had to school his features into a stern look as he turned back to a cowering Finnigan. "What are you still doing here?" he demanded. "Go on, gate's that way."

"Y-yes sir," Rupert stuttered. He backed away and was almost at the gate when he halted and turned back. "I guess this means I can't take Lily to Diagon Alley tomorrow?"

"James," Draco drawled idly. "Fetch me my blowtorch."

Rupert squawked and made a run for the gate, disappearing in an impressive four and a half seconds. "And stay out!" Scorpius called smugly, still hiding behind his father. Harry and Draco shared an amused look as they high-fived each other. Harry chuckled and Draco shook his head.

"Right," he announced. "Brilliantly executed, boys. Couldn't have done it without you. Now get back to bed. And you two…" he trailed off meaningfully, giving his twins The Look. Albus groaned and Scorpius whined, but they surrendered their dung-bombs before trudging off after James.

Harry watched them depart, before turning to grin at his husband. "Told you a pet hippogriff was a good idea," he said smugly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, you smug prat," he retorted. "You were right. Now go to bed. I'll join you in a minute."

He lingered in the gardens as Harry took off. Soon enough, a head poked out from behind a tree. Draco smirked as Marvin cantered up to him, staring at him with keen, bright eyes. "You know, I've never been too fond of your lot," Draco informed him. Marvin's feathers ruffled and he squawked indignantly. Draco chuckled. "But you and I are going to get along just fine, Feathers."

The hippogriff screeched in agreement and gave him a jerky nod before trotting off, resuming his nightly vigilance. Draco grinned and trudged back to the house, halting only when he heard a shout from the upstairs window.

"I'll wait for you, Rupert! They can't keep us apart forever!"

"Watch me," Draco called back. There was another indignant shriek and the sound of a window slamming. He sighed as he made his way back to the bedroom.

Teenagers. They could be _so_ unreasonable sometimes…

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><p><strong>Reviews, please!<strong>


	72. Flirting is Mandatory

**Written for a prompt on LJ. And its nuts, just so you know...Featuring Jealous!Harry and Fanboy!Draco**

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><p>Harry Potter did not like the Weird Sisters. They were trite and unoriginal and frankly, if he wanted to hear someone howl and screech and lament over the futility of life for over six minutes at a time, he would visit Moaning Myrtle. At least, she took a break every now and then by jumping into the toilet. Which incidentally, was exactly where the <em>Weird Sisters' Greatest Hits Anthology<em> belonged.

He liked their concerts even less. Everything was bright and chaotic and…and _screamy._ A shrieking girl practically catapulted over three people to get to the stage. Harry winced as she got a face full of concrete. _Why_ was he here again?

"I can't believe we're seeing the Sisters live! _Live_, Potter! Merlin's pants, this is awesome! **Shag me, Kirley Duke!**"

Right. _That's_ why.

"Calm down, Draco," he muttered, trying to get a hold of his rival turned roommate as he clambered over another unfortunate concert goer to get a better look at the stage. The crowd roared around them and he had to shout to be heard. "Honestly, must you be such a fan-boy?"

Draco abandoned his expedition to the top of Mount Pissed-Off-Ginger and glowered at Harry. "The Weird Sisters, Potter" he announced as if this justified everything. "Have you even heard _Flirting is Mandatory_?"

"How could I not? You play it nonstop at least four hours a day," Harry snapped back. "I'm starting to sing it in my sleep!"

"And you're hopelessly off-key," Draco replied, lifting his chin haughtily. It would have had more of an effect if he didn't have the words _Naked Twister with the Sisters _emblazoned on his shirt.

Harry groaned. He was seriously considering just taking off. Draco hardly needed him here; he was far too busy fawning over the Weird sodding Sisters. Harry was feeling rather put off about it. He was used to Draco teasing him, scolding him for not doing his homework and nicking his stuff. He was _not_ used to Draco ignoring him.

"**Oi, Heathcote!**" the blond bellowed at the top his lungs. "Take off your shirt!"

The crowd roared its approval and Draco cheered with them. Harry clenched his teeth. To hell with leaving. He was staying right _here_. 

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><p>"What do you mean we can't go backstage?" Draco snarled, stamping his foot.<p>

The seven foot something bouncer appeared unimpressed. He was regarding Draco with an expression one would probably use when being confronted by a particularly hissy kitten. "No pass, no entrance. Sorry, kid."

Harry groaned as Draco opened his mouth to argue. He was never going to get home. Draco scowled at him and then his eyes narrowed speculatively. Harry yelped as the blond reached out and snagged his arm, pulling him towards the bouncer. "I'll trade you one Harry Potter for a free pass," he declared.

"You're giving me away for a sodding _pass?_" Harry shrilled indignantly.

"Be quiet, Potter. I'm trying to negotiate."

Harry gaped and the bouncer gave him a commiserating look. "No dice," he declared, shrugging at the fuming blond. Draco looked about one step from throwing the mother of all hissy fits, and Harry hastened to intervene. "Come on, Draco. Let's go."

"No!" the blond argued. "I came to see the Sisters and I am not leaving until they autograph every part of my…"

"He said no!" Harry snapped, inexplicably irritated at the thought of _anyone_ autographing Draco. "The concert's over. We're leaving now!"

"No, we're not!" Draco snapped back. "I told you I'm…"

"'Scuse me, is there a problem here?"

Harry turned around, coming face to face with a lean, brown haired bloke holding a cello. Draco turned as well and promptly gasped. His eyes widened and he grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder, visibly staggering. "No way," he blurted. "No _fucking_ way!"

"Not a problem, Mr. Graves," the bouncer replied. "Just a couple fans trying to get in again."

"Really?" the bloke grinned. His eyes flicked over to Draco with lazy interest and Harry's jaw clenched. Graves grinned and held his hand out to the blond, smoothly disengaging him from Harry. "Merton Graves from the Weird Sisters at your service," he purred. "You lads enjoy the concert?"

"Oh Merlin," Draco replied breathlessly, eyes still wide and unblinking. Harry growled and gave him a light shove. That seemed to bring the blond back. He shook his head and gawked unabashedly at their new companion, still stuttering. "Merlin on a pogo stick! I…I mean, its…you…you're Merton Graves…I…oh bollocks…"

"Smooth," Harry muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs and a scowl from his roommate. He subsided sullenly. Merton Graves just chuckled and swooped up Draco's slim hand, pressing his lips to the blond's knuckles. "That I am," he said. "You got a name, cutie?"

Draco gave the smarmy bloke a shy smile that made Harry's blood boil. "Draco," he mumbled, his cheeks tinged with a light pink.

"Draco," Graves echoed, letting the name roll off his tongue almost obscenely. "Posh. Just how I like 'em."

Draco went a pretty shade of scarlet and bit his lip and Harry felt a growl rumble in his throat. He slipped between Draco and the Weird Sisters Wanker, holding out his hand to Graves. "Harry Potter," he said curtly. "It's a pleasure."

Graves' smile faded. "Oh, of course" he replied, shaking his hand far less enthusiastically than Draco's. "From all that You Know Who business a few years ago. Big fan." He let go of Harry's hand abruptly and turned a discerning eye to the blond again. "So together, are you?"

"We…"

"No," Draco cut in immediately. "We're just… friends."

Harry's heart sank but Graves' looked like Christmas had come early.

"I see," he purred. The smarmy grin was back. He slipped an arm around Draco and drew him closer. Harry clenched his fists almost automatically.  
>"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind accompanying me backstage? The band is throwing a little after party and I <em>hate<em> going to these things by myself."

Draco looked like a four year old who'd just been offered the keys to Honeydukes. "The…the band?" he blurted. "We can meet the _whole_ band?"

"Ah well…" Graves trailed an awkward hand through his hair and mussed it up. Harry was willing to bet every galleon he had that he practiced that move in front of a mirror every morning. Graves shrugged apologetically at them, looking embarrassed. "I'd love to have both of you of course, but the thing is… I'm only allowed a _few_, select guests. Security and all, don't you know. _Horribly_ awkward, the whole thing. Oh well, what can you do?" He flashed a billion galleon smile at Harry and slipped an arm around Draco's waist again. "Terribly sorry, Potter. Maybe next time, yeah? I'll make sure your little friend here has a good time."

"I'll bet," Harry muttered. Graves responded with an insincere grin and wrapped his arm securely around Draco.

Draco stared at both of them, looking somewhat caught in headlights. "Harry…" he began uncertainly.

"Its fine," Harry replied with a tight smile. "Go on, have a good time. I'll see you at home."

"But…"

Harry turned on his heel and left abruptly, not entirely sure if he could deal with the sight of Graves wrapped around Draco without setting something on fire. Preferably Merton Graves. He was barely aware of existing the building and soon found himself stomping down the street. His stomach was twisting in knots and he scowled and kicked at a rock, pretending that it was Graves' big, stupid head. He felt just a little bit better as he watched it skitter down the street.

He stormed around a bit more before the depression set in. Harry sighed and slumped down on the pavement, glowering angrily at a lamppost and resolutely ignoring the urge to run back and _snatch_ Draco away from that tosser. Why should he? Draco obviously wanted to be there. Hell, he was probably having the time of his life. He certainly didn't give a rat's arse about how Harry felt or…

And then it started raining. Rain splattered around him and Harry sighed as he found himself summarily doused. A wet trail seeped its uncomfortable way into his clothes.

Perfect.

"Stupid April showers," he muttered, scrubbing at his drenched hair viciously. "Does it get any worse?"

"Well, we could be struck by lightning," a voice replied.

Harry turned around at once and his eyes widened as Draco grinned and sprawled elegantly beside him. "What are you doing here?" Harry demanded.

"Apparently, getting soaked," Draco replied, shaking his head and spraying Harry with water. That god awful shirt was drenched and clung to his slim frame and his blond bangs were plastered to his face, making him look utterly ridiculous (and maybe just a _tiny_ bit attractive, not that Harry noticed or anything). "Honestly Potter, couldn't you find a drier place to brood?"

"I wasn't brooding."

"Could've fooled me," Draco drawled. But he made no move to get up and leave, and Harry felt something tight and fluttery thrum in his chest. "Why…why are you here?" he asked tentatively. "I thought you wanted to stay with..."

"Please," Draco retorted, making a show of studying his nails. "He plays the bloody _cello_." He gave Harry another lopsided grin and nudged his shoulder. "But don't expect me to give up a guitarist or a lead singer for you, Scarhead."

"Prat," Harry chuckled, giving him a playful shove in retaliation. His hand slipped against Draco's warm, wet skin and Harry felt his breath catch. Instinctively he looked up at Draco. The blond favoured him with a light smirk and Harry grinned back, wrapping his fingers around Draco's slim wrist to pull him closer. "I'm soaked to the bone," he whispered. "Do you…maybe want to go somewhere?"

"Asking me out on a date, Potter?"

Harry's fingers tightened around his wrist, just a fraction. "Maybe," he replied. "What do you say?"

"On one condition," Draco whispered, leaning into him. Harry shivered as the blond's lips brushed his ear.

"Flirting is mandatory."

**END**


	73. Fire, My Old Friend

**Written for enchanted-jae's JMDC challenge, Prompt: sacrifice. A songfic of sorts inspired by ****The Rains of Castamere**** from the Game of Thrones Universe, because I am clearly obsessed. This ficlet is best read with that awesome song playing in the background...**

**Warnings: non DH compliant (no horcruxes), AU, Dark!Harry**

**PS: I swear I'm working on my prompts and not just mucking about. Work with me, lovely readers ^^**

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><p>Flames swept across the grounds, enveloping the palatial manor in a hellish blaze. Green eyes gleamed in the firelight, lethal flame dancing across blown pupils.<p>

Fiendfyre. Albus said that it burned its way into the soul of the caster, turning his heart to ashes.

A small sacrifice.

The hill he was standing on was at a fair distance, but the heat against his skin was palpable. If he listened hard enough, he could hear their frenzied screams.

Unbidden amongst the flames, an old song came to mind.

_And who are you, the proud lord said, _  
><em>that I must bow so low?<br>Only a cat of a different coat,  
>That's all the truth I know. <em>

Underestimating him had been convenient for Voldemort. So easy. He didn't blame the wretch. A seventeen year old boy with an exceptional _Expelliarmus_ to his name and no knowledge of the Dark Arts...

The Dark Lord had looked at Harry and seen a scared, vulnerable child who posed no threat.

He should have looked harder.

_In a coat of gold or a coat of red, _  
><em>A lion still has claws, <em>  
><em>And mine are long and sharp, my lord, <em>  
><em>As long and sharp as yours. <em>

This fire devouring the last Death Eater hideout was a paltry flicker compared to the rage that burnt inside him. A spire of smoke rose above the rest- in the shape of a skull and serpent. It twisted and rose into the sky, dissolving into nothing. It was done and Harry's mouth twisted in a dark grin.

Albus was right. Fire burned. It destroyed. It ate away at the soul, leaving nothing but a charred core and ashes in its wake.

Everyone he had ever loved had been sacrificed on a flaming altar; the fire that kept that monster alive.

In truth, he would have listened to Albus- if he had a soul left to burn, a heart left to destroy.

No. He had burned enough. It was Tom Riddle's turn now.

_And so he spoke, and so he spoke, _  
><em>That lord of Castamere, <em>  
><em>But now the rains weep o'er his hall, <em>  
><em>With no one there to hear. <em>

The fire raged on, until the rains came. His eyes flickered as the last of the flames gave out under the downpour.

The mansion was rubble now- a smoking, open grave with no secrets.

Silent. Just as a grave should be.

_But now the rains weep o'er his hall, _  
><em>With not a soul to hear. <em>

The rain lashed around him as he walked away, seemingly trying to reach out and destroy the last of the fire. The flame that still dwelled inside him…

Harry smiled. Fire was a friend he wasn't ready to give up yet. A new world was calling out, rising from the ashes like a phoenix.

And phoenixes live only so long as the fire burns and the flames flare in silent vigil against the darkness.

Not yet, old friend.

Not yet.


	74. Pool Pandemonium

**And here's a oneshot for my lovelies, ConstantlyContradictory and Sanshine7 who requested Jealous!Draco or more specifically, Draco doing the chasing for once. I mixed it up with a few prompts from LJ, but there you have it! Cheers and thanks for prompting, darlings!**

**Slashiness ahead, be warned**

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><p>It was a lovely hotel, Draco mused. An elegant yet understated establishment on the beach, not to mention ridiculously exorbitant- it was small wonder that he had convinced Harry to spend their vacation here. They even had a spring garden of sorts and he and Harry had had a wonderful time, walking the grounds hand in hand admiring lush greens and gorgeous blooms. Oh yes, it was a wonderful resort.<p>

Too bad he was going to burn it to the fucking ground.

Draco's grey eyes narrowed, locking in on his target- a lithe, bikini clad blonde who was currently flirting with _his_ boyfriend. Harry was obviously uncomfortable with the woman's blatant invitation and was doing everything in his power to extricate himself from the situation, all the while shooting Draco warning looks to _stay_ _where he was and not do anything stupid_.

Draco however, had never listened to Harry and he wasn't about to start now.

He sauntered over casually, all but sneaking up on The Pool Slag. Harry's eyes widened in alarm at the sight of his prowling boyfriend and he tried to excuse himself at once. The unfortunate girl chose this very moment to trail a flirtatious hand down his chest and lean into him.

"You really should try out the pool sometime, Mr. Potter," she purred.

Draco sneered. He was willing to bet every galleon he had that the pool was not the only thing the little tramp intended for Harry to 'try out'. And Draco had a _lot_ of galleons.

Harry swallowed and leaned back. "I don't swim," he lied quickly.

"Oh?" she pouted. "And here I was looking forward to seeing you in your swim trunks."

How the brainless slag couldn't hear Draco grinding his teeth right behind her, he would never know. All his territorial instincts were surging to the fore, demanding that he _take her down_ and stake his claim to his boyfriend right here by the pool. Harry shot him a pleading look and Draco considered subsiding. All said and done, he was a Malfoy. If Father had taught him anything, it was that he could _not_ go around hexing women.

The oblivious bint grinned and leaned into Harry again, her ample bosom brushing against his chest. "I could teach you how to swim," she giggled. "And if you're in trouble, there's always mouth to mouth…"

Father _never_ said anything about pushing. Draco struck like a cobra. His foot shot out smoothly and there was a resounding splash accompanied by a shriek. Draco snickered, Harry groaned in dismay and the girl emerged, sputtering and flailing from the water. She gasped and batted her hair out of her eyes, gaping stupidly at the smirking blond.

"Oops," Draco drawled. "Clumsy me."

"Damn it, Draco," Harry groaned, exasperation tingeing his tone. Draco raised an unrepentant eyebrow and pressed into him, capturing Harry's lips in a heated snog. Harry resisted for all of two seconds, before capitulating and pulling him close. Draco smirked against his lips before breaking away. "I'll see you back in _our_ room," he announced, shooting the seething, dripping woman a parting sneer. "Don't keep me waiting, love."

Harry scowled halfheartedly at him and for a second, Draco was sure he would storm off in a strop. Then he heard footsteps padding after him and he grinned.

"Clean the pool," he drawled, tossing a galleon at a passing pool-boy. "There's trash in it."

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><p>Draco groaned as he sensed his impending climax. He braced himself on Harry's shoulders, rising up and pumping himself on his lover's cock. Harry groaned and grabbed hold of his hips, ramming him down on his cock over and over again until Draco threw his head back and came all over him with a lusty moan. Harry growled in reply and bucked under him, intent on seeking his own pleasure. Draco clenched around him and Harry thrust into him one more time, shuddering and arching as he rode out his climax. He fell back on the pillows and released the sated blond. Draco hummed in satisfaction as he slipped off his lover and curled around him like a contented cat.<p>

"Mine," he sighed smugly, resting his head on Harry's chest and closing his eyes.

"You've made that amply clear, you jealous wanker," Harry half scolded. Draco's lips quirked up in a shameless smirk and Harry gave up trying to chastise him. Instead, he stretched out on the scarlet silk sheets and dislodging whatever remained of his shirt from the round bed. Draco had all but ripped it from his body the second they were in the room.

Despite his bewilderment; Harry couldn't help snickering at the memory of that poor girl flailing in the water.

What had followed was one of the most rousing, bordering on violent shags of his life. And if _that_ wasn't enough, Draco had somehow managed to spell a huge, circular skylight right above their bed, seemingly of the notion that their screams and moans should be broadcasted for all the world to hear. Harry rolled his eyes. He for one, was just grateful that they were on the top floor and there were no rooms above them. An audience was not going to stop his hellcat boyfriend when he was in one of his _this is mine and you can't have it_ moods.

Still, Harry mused with a smile, it was nice to know he was wanted.

"Possessive git," he whispered fondly, nuzzling against the sleeping blond.

Draco shifted next to him, looking up at Harry with dazed eyes. "Mine?" he murmured sleepily. Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Yes, love. I'm all yours," he confirmed. Draco hummed in contentment and settled down in his arms again.

Harry ghosted a hand through his hair, before pulling Draco against his body and drifting off into contented slumber.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please ^^<strong>


	75. Fluffy Fuming Fury

**Written for my lovely TheSilentDarkAngel who requested jealous kitten!Draco. Hope you like it, darling :)**

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><p>The sound of rustling bushes startled Harry and he looked up from his book, immediately finding himself staring into a pair of huge, brown eyes. Harry grinned. "Well hello, handsome," he crooned, extending a welcoming hand. "And where did you come from?"<p>

The golden retriever scampered and sniffed curiously at him. Apparently, Harry passed muster because the dog proceeded to bark affably and prance about him, tail wagging nineteen to the dozen. His tongue lolled out and he blithely barged into Harry's personal space, inviting him to play. Harry chuckled and scratched his ears, eliciting another series of happy barks from his new best friend. The retriever planted his paws on his chest and commenced licking his face with a single minded determination that would put most Gryffindors to shame. Harry laughed at the assault and batted at him, finally managing to sit up.

"Who's a good boy?" he cooed, lavishing attention on the over-friendly canine. "Who's a big, handsome bloke? Why, you are. Yes, you…"

Suddenly a sharp yowl sounded, shattering the tranquil peace and scaring at least ten years off of Harry's life. He nearly jumped out of his skin as a soft, furry _something _pounced on him, attaching itself firmly to his lap. Sharp claws dug into his skin through his jeans and Harry squawked half in pain and half in fear, still trying to get his bearings.

By the time he had a handle on the situation, the Birman kitten had turned away; the full force of its wrath now directed on the unfortunate dog. Harry blinked at the seething ball of fluffy fury firmly attached to his left leg, arching and spitting agitatedly at The Intruder.

"You cannot be serious!" he sputtered. He watched in growing disbelief (and not a little alarm) as the handful of cat and the _70 pound _dog faced off.

_Oh dear god…_

The dog seemed more flummoxed than anything. He cocked his head and wagged his tail haltingly, giving Harry's tiny defender a quizzical look. Harry swallowed and put a protective arm around his kitten- who was still too outraged to be sensibly intimidated.

_"Mrowww,"_ he intoned angrily, somehow managing to convey a whole slew of vile death threats to the furry Harry-snatcher in one single syllable. His tail bristled in warning and he clamped his sharp nails into Harry's leg possessively, eliciting a pained grimace.

The dog was justifiably bemused. "Ruff?" he inquired, pawing haphazardly at the kitten. He took a tentative step forward and sniffed.

**_"Mrrroww!"_**

A tiny paw batted out, swiping at his nose. The dog skittered back in surprise before collecting his courage and trotting over again. Harry tensed, alert for any signs of aggression or attack. His arm still sheltered the kitten who nudged his way through to glare at the dog with narrow, slitted eyes. Harry felt fur bristle against his arm as his fluffy captive rumbled in disapproval.

The dog yipped and Harry tensed. The kitten stiffened and growled, preparing to pounce.

The dog was faster. His tongue lolled out as he bunted the little cat with his head, rolled him over easily. The ball of fluff tumbled with an outraged snarl and the dog barked happily, giving the kitten a long, wet lick before turning tail and running off, presumably in search of a more acquiescent playmate.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief as his kitten sprang up, sending one last hiss in the direction of the retreating dog before clambering up on Harry's lap again. Harry rolled his eyes as he was treated to a particularly smug look. "Yes Draco," he quipped dryly. "You sure showed him."

His Animagus boyfriend sniffed haughtily, settling down for a nice nap. Harry grinned and scratched his ears fondly. Draco emitted a purr of deep satisfaction and he chuckled.

He had always been more of a cat person, anyway.


	76. The Break Up

**A very shameless powerful!Harry, damsel in distress!Draco fic, because apparently I do that now...**

**Warnings: Dark fic, violence, drugs, ****almost rape****. Not fit for minors. Please proceed with caution**

**Written for enchanted_jae's JMDC challenge on Livejournal. Prompt: Animal**

* * *

><p>Harry was halfway through his third beer when the phone rang. He reached out for it and immediately grimaced at the name flashing on the screen. Draco had <em>no<em> business calling him at this time of the night. Their break up was still painfully fresh in his memory and the last week had been sheer hell for him. Perhaps it _had_ been for the best- they could hardly go a day without arguing and recently, the word 'break up' had been tossed around a lot more than Harry would have preferred. Then Draco had announced that he was leaving and Harry hadn't stopped him. Only in his darkest moments would he admit that he wished he had just run after his boyfriend and dragged him back. But stubbornness and pride had stopped him. If Draco could leave him so easily, Harry didn't see why he should beg him to stay.

And now he was calling. Harry scowled at the phone, half considering ignoring the stubborn, obnoxious brat altogether. But the ringing was insistent and frantic and in spite of his better judgement, he found himself taking the call.

"What?" he snapped. "It wasn't enough for you to rip my heart out? You have to call and rub it in too?"

"Harry," Draco's voice sounded small and lost and something inside Harry clenched painfully. He sighed and rubbed his temples, trying to will away his headache.

"Look, Draco," he began. "I don't really want to talk to you right now and you made it amply clear that you didn't want to see me again. So please, let's just…"

"Harry, _please_," Draco cut in. The soft, pleading note in his voice was unsettling. "I…I didn't know who else to call."

Harry frowned. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

His heart plummeted as a soft sobbing commenced on the other end of the line. His hand tightened on the phone, his breathing suddenly shallow. "Draco," he whispered. "Draco, talk to me. What's happening?"

"I…I don't know," Draco stuttered. "I'm scared, Harry. God, I'm so scared."

Harry's world tilted off its axis. His knees were shaking and he sat back on the couch. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to will his heartbeat down to normal. _Stay calm_, he told himself firmly. _You need to stay calm._ "Dray," he said softly, trying not to let any note of panic seep into his tone. "Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you."

"I don't know!" Draco sobbed. "There…there was a club and…and some guy…I…I think he put something in my drink…I don't know where I…Harry, _please_…"

"Fuck," Harry whispered. "Draco…Draco, listen to me. You have to apparate out of there now. Just…just get yourself over here. You can do it."

"I lost my wand," Draco replied, sounding more frantic by the second. "I just…just wanted to get pissed and _forget_ and now I'm… Harry, he's going to…"

The line crackled and Harry jumped back up, clutching a table to support himself. "Draco!" he practically screamed. "Damn it! What's happening over there?"

"He's coming back." Draco whispered. "Harry, he's coming back!" His voice was shrill and breathless. He sounded like he was going to have a panic attack. Harry wasn't doing so great himself. The room was spinning around him and tears of rage and frustration built up in his eyes, threatening to fall as Draco started sobbing again. "Harry, please," he managed. "He's going to…I can't…help me… please, Harry…please…"

"I'm coming to get you," Harry promised, frantically pulling on his shoes. "Dray, I'll be there in a minute. _Nothing_ is going to happen to you. I promise."

"I want you," Draco sobbed. "Just you. Please…please, don't let him take me…"

Harry swiped at his tears, trying to swallow around the swollen lump in his throat. The world was suddenly clearer and he knew what needed to be done. "I'm coming to get you," he vowed. His tone was deathly calm and his hands were still and firm. He needed to stay calm. He needed to get Draco back. "You're mine," he said. "He's _not_ going to take you. I'm coming, love. Just hang on."

"I love you," Draco choked out. Harry's breath came out in a gasping shudder. "I love you too," he replied.

But the line was already dead.

* * *

><p>The next five minutes were the absolute worst Harry had ever experienced. Location Spells were not always accurate and he'd made two wrong stops before finally apparating outside a skeevy muggle club. He was almost sure this was the right place. Draco's magic was faint but present, and it was drawing him in like a magnet.<p>

Harry didn't waste a second. The world was a hazy blur. He didn't recall entering the club, although he must have shoved a few people to get in considering the way his shoulder was throbbing. He didn't even register the pounding beat of the music or the mangled twist of bodies he had to writhe through, blue tinted and eerie under the flashing strobe lights. _Nothing_ mattered except Draco's magic which was getting stronger and closer and he was nearly there…he _had_ to be here; he just had to…

Harry shoved his way past yet another bloke and slammed a door open, entering the private section. A growl left his throat as he hurtled through the rooms, frantically looking for…

A wail of despair rang out- nearly drowned out by the pounding in his ears -and a shadow twisted behind him. Harry's eyes flashed and he practically flew to the other side of the room, grabbing hold of the man and wrenching him back by the collar. Draco slumped to the floor immediately, shaking like a hunted animal. Harry met his gaze for a split second and the sight of those wide, terrified silver eyes sent a surge of sheer _rage_ through him. He drew back and slammed his fist in the bastard's jaw, drawing out a sickening crunch and a pained howl from his victim. "The fuck!" the man half howled, half slurred, nursing his broken jaw and gaping up at Harry from the floor. "Go find your own trick for the night!"

Harry snarled and lunged for him again, catching him in the stomach. He wrenched the sorry fuck up by his collar, slamming him against the wall. "What did you give him?" he practically hissed.

The man quailed and his dazed, brown eyes darkened with sudden fear as he realized how incredibly bad this situation had become. "I…I don't know what you're talkin' about, man…"

Harry snarled and slammed him into the wall again. His head slammed against the concrete and he managed another broken whimper before Harry descended on him, punching until his knuckles were bruised and bleeding. By the time he was done, the man's face was barely recognizable. "I'll ask again," he growled, glaring down at the bleeding lump twisting in his grip. "_What_ did you **give him?!"**

"R-r-roofies," he stuttered out. "J-just a pill, man. He ain't gonna crash, I swear. Just a p-pill…"

**"You son of a BITCH!" **

He wasn't sure what happened after that. The world descended into a red, scarlet haze, fading away in the face of his wrath as he descended on the fucking rapist with the single minded intention of _ending_ him. Blurred noises registered in the depths of his mind- screams of agony from his victim, shouts demanding that he _stop_ and all through it the painful, wretched sound of Draco's shuddering sobs. Harry snarled and continued his relentless attack, stopping only when two sets of hands pulled him back off the broken, bleeding lump on the floor. And still he twisted and railed and shouted for them to get the fuck _off_ so he could get on with **destroying** the fucking bastard who had dared to…

**"Enough!"** someone yelled in his face. "Fuck man, you're gonna kill him!"

Harry's vision cleared and he recognized one of the bouncers he had pushed off earlier. He snarled and shoved him off again. The bouncer let go, raising his hands up in an unwillingness to fight. "Get your boyfriend and get out," he ordered. "We don't want trouble here. Out. Now."

Harry sneered and turned his back on him. His gaze immediately fell on the blond, frail figure huddled on the floor. Harry's heart ached and he made his way over to Draco, kneeling next to him and put a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Dray, baby," he whispered. "Look at me."

Draco left the shelter of his arms to gaze up at Harry. He was pale and shaking and his frightened eyes roved the room, landing on his half dead attacker for an instant. Draco quailed and pressed into the wall and Harry placed a firm hand on his chin, forcing Draco's head back. "No, don't look at him," he ordered. "Look at me." Draco met his gaze with a stilted nod and Harry heaved a sigh of relief as his violent trembling steadied a bit. He ran a calming hand through Draco's blond hair, trying to soothe the tremors of that slim body against his own. "You're safe," he promised fervently. "You're safe now."

_"Harry." _

Harry braced himself against the wall as Draco barrelled into his arms, clutching at him for dear life and sobbing into his shoulder. Harry's eyes prickled and he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, nuzzling into his blond hair. Relief washed over him in waves. He hadn't even realized how terrified he had been. If anything had happened to Draco…

"I've got you," he rasped. "It's okay now. It's alright, love. I swear."

"Home," Draco demanded shakily, hiding in his chest. _"Home!_"

Harry nodded. "I'll take you to the Manor."

"No!" Draco almost screamed, his fingers digging painfully into Harry's sides. "Not the Manor! I want to go **home!**"

It took Harry a minute to realize that Draco was referring to their flat. His throat clenched painfully and he tightened his hold on the hysterical boy. "Okay," he soothed. "Home. I'll take you home."

_And I'll be damned if I let you leave again._

* * *

><p>He apparated them back into his flat and stumbled over to the couch, Draco still firmly wrapped around him. His boyfriend whimpered and nuzzled into his shoulder again and Harry shushed him, placing soft, tender kisses to his head. "You need to let go for a minute," he murmured. "I need to see what he…you might need a Healer."<p>

Draco's response was to clamber into his lap and straddle him. "No Healer," he mumbled. "Just you. Please."

Harry stroked his back gently and summoned a healing salve. He considered a Calming Potion but he had a feeling Draco wasn't going to take anything right now and he didn't want to give him anything until the drugs were out of his system. Very gently, he pried him off. Draco stared down at his lap, unnervingly compliant as Harry divested him of his shirt and assessed the damage. Harry tried to stamp down his rage at the sight of the flaring, red mark on Draco's collarbone. He was half considering going back to the club and burning it to the ground, but just then Draco shuddered and moved to put his shirt back on. Harry's anger melted away at once and he grasped the slender boy by the shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. "It's not your fault," he said firmly. "It's over now. I'm going to heal this, okay?"

Draco sniffed and nodded slightly, settling against his shoulder and baring his neck. Harry rewarded him with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dabbed some of the salve on, sighing with relief as the mark receded. He started working on the odd bruise here and there, and by the time he was finished Draco was half asleep in his lap, apparently soothed by the gentle attention. Harry took a moment to gaze down at the sleeping boy- just _looking _at his soft, blond hair and his eyelashes fluttering gently. He was so beautiful. How could he have ever let Draco go? How could he have even considered…

"Sorry," Draco slurred, nudging into his chest again. "So sorry. Won't leave again…never, not ever…"

"Damn right you won't," Harry replied, his hands tightening possessively on his beautiful lover. "I'll tie you down and keep you here if I have to. And I _never_ want to hear the word 'break up' in this flat again."

Draco shivered pleasantly against him. "Never," he murmured. "Never, Harry…"

Harry nodded. "Go to sleep," he ordered softly. "Just sleep now. We'll talk in the morning."

"Don't leave," Draco mumbled, clutching feebly at his shirt. Harry responded with a tight squeeze and a fervent _never_ and Draco sighed in contentment, mercifully falling into slumber.

Harry watched him sleep for a while, just drinking in the sight of Draco safe and sound and with _him_. His knuckles throbbed painfully and he was struck with the belated realization that he hadn't even bothered to heal himself yet. He reached for the salve but the sudden movement disturbed Draco who whined in complaint and clutched at his shirt again. Harry subsided, resolving to deal with it later.

Right now, everything he needed was right here and Harry tightened his hold on Draco, promising himself that he was going to _keep_ it that way.


	77. The Apple Orchards of Godric's Hollow

**A little story I've become quite fond of. This was written for a prompt at dracoharry100 over at LJ. The prompt was Godric's Hollow.**

**Each part is 100 words exactly and must contain the prompt.**

**Warnings: EWE, blink-and-you-miss-it mpreg implications, not angst but a ****_bit_**** of a tearjerker. Very fluffy though...**

* * *

><p>Contrary to popular belief, old Mr Johnson hadn't always been old.<p>

He had been a young lad once. Granted, those memories seemed fainter every day but he had the pictures to prove it.

And he had been a young man too. A young, strong man; living and laughing in the house of his fathers; marrying the woman he loved; raising two boys and harvesting apples from his orchard year after year after year. And a fine, full life it was too.

Time takes its toll though.

The village of Godric's Hollow had aged and Henry Johnson had aged with it.

* * *

><p>Had it really been this long? He walked the lengths of his precious orchard, marvelling at the years gone by.<p>

The apples lay undisturbed as always.

How long had it been since a messy haired, bright eyed scamp had crept in to nick an apple or two? Henry smiled at the memory. James Potter was a pest alright. Henry had spent many an afternoon, chasing after the impertinent youngster all over Godric's Hollow.

He had been younger then and faster. James seldom got away. Henry would take great satisfaction in dragging him home to his mother for a sound scolding.

* * *

><p>That had been long ago though.<p>

No more Potters came into these gardens anymore. The neighbouring house, overlooking his gardens had been silent for years.

James and his pretty wife…the memory cut right through him, as it had the day he had heard. The day the news had spread all over Godric's Hollow in tearful whispers and hushed tones.

They searched for the little one- Harry, James had named him- but he was taken away. Henry was thankful. At least the lad would have a normal life elsewhere.

He wouldn't come into the orchards though.

Times had changed. Always did.

* * *

><p>The years passed. It was late fall now and Henry Johnson shuffled through his orchards, leaning on his cane every now and then. The frost had wound its way into Godric's Hollow. Henry wondered if the stasis charm had been strong enough. It wouldn't do to lose an entire harvest…<p>

There was a crunch somewhere. Henry halted. Faint voices sounded. He paused, listening carefully.

"Will you be _quiet? _Someone will hear you!"

"You be quiet! Oh, that looks good. Grab that, Al."

"Here's another one. Stuff it in your shirt."

"Stuff it…_I_ wanted to bring a basket!"

"Shut up, Scorpius."

* * *

><p>Perhaps he was going slow in his old age. Henry watched silently, not quite believing what he was seeing.<p>

The boys- nine, maybe ten years old- were scrambling about in his barrels, grabbing apples by the dozen. The one with a black mop for hair grinned and tossed another over to his brother.

The blond stowed it away before resuming the shameless thievery, his green eyes glinting with the sheer joy every little boy feels when he takes something that isn't his.

Henry would know that messy hair and those mischievous grins anywhere.

There were Potters in Godric's Hollow again.

* * *

><p>"I hope you lads plan to pay for those."<p>

He hadn't planned on speaking. It was just habit- born of years spent in Godric's Hollow. The boys halted, before turning to him- eyes wide and unblinking. They looked so much like another little scamp he had known. James had the good sense to run though…

"Run!" the blond squeaked, bolting for the gate.

Ah, there it was.

Henry watched as his brother blazed after him.

They made for the gates and he absently wondered if he should give chase. It was the done thing, even if he couldn't catch them.

* * *

><p>Suddenly a young man strode up to the gate, yanking both boys back before they escaped back into Godric's Hollow.<p>

"Albus and Scorpius Malfoy Potter!" he scolded. "What's going on here?"

He dragged the protesting boys back firmly, stopping in front of Henry.

He ruffled his dark hair agitatedly, his green eyes regarding his sullen sons. "You were not raised to steal from people," he scolded. "Just _wait_ until Father hears about this!"

"Not Father!" the blond protested.

Henry had to fight the urge to smile. If he had a galleon for every time James had said those exact words…

* * *

><p>"Yes. Father," The young man- Harry Potter- replied. He shook his head exasperatedly. "Honestly, we moved in ten minutes ago! How can you two already be causing trouble?"<p>

"Wouldn't expect anything less from a Potter," Henry broke in.

James' boy halted the tirade and stared at him, before sighing and shrugging apologetically. "I apologise for my sons, sir. They're…well, ten. I'll be glad to pay for these if you…"

"Keep them," Henry replied. "Consider it a gift."

He gazed at the sheer number of assorted Potters in his grounds. His lips stretched in a fond smile. "Welcome to Godric's Hollow."

* * *

><p>Harry shook his head. "That's very kind of you. But I couldn't. I insist. How much for …"<p>

Henry waved him off. "Don't even think about it, lad. No Potter has ever paid for my apples. We don't mess with proud traditions here at Godric's Hollow."

Harry relented with a smile and raised an eyebrow at his sons. "Boys, anything you'd like to say?"

"Thank you," they mumbled.

"And we're sorry," the blond added.

"Not as sorry as you will be if I catch you stealing again," Henry replied dryly.

They grinned impishly. There would certainly be a next time.

* * *

><p>Henry watched the boys depart with their father, carrying at least a dozen apples each. Their voices- loud, cheerful and happy- rang in the silence of Godric's Hollow.<p>

Potters, through and through.

He was an old man now and he couldn't walk too fast or even too far without a cane. His bones hurt and he coughed and he spent more time with old pictures than with people.

With more memories than plans and a lifetime of dealing with naughty, thieving Potter boys...

But even tired, old men can learn new lessons now and then.

Not everything changes.

Not everything.

**END**


	78. Candy Carnage

**100 word drabble nonsense. Because at some point, everyone needs to write Gollum!Draco.**

* * *

><p>Pansy lounged in the Eighth Year common room, enjoying the rarity of a peaceful Hogwarts moment. Suddenly, voices from the boy's dorm drifted over. She sat up, listen avidly.<p>

"Is that a candy bar?"

"N-no! It's a…cleverly disguised celery stick."

"Liar! You just unwrapped it!"

"Now love…"

"Give it."

"But…"

"Give us the** PRECIOUS!"**

There was a screech of terror accompanied by a crash. Pansy smirked as Potter bolted out, hurtling down the staircase for safety.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Draco's no sugar diet isn't working out?"

Potter glowered at her. "Keep laughing, Parkinson. Next time, _you're_ watching him!"


	79. Ludicrous Lubricus

**I was wondering if there were any possible uses for a Lubrication charm/spell besides the obvious. Hence, this ficlet was born.**

**Warnings for somewhat mature content. Minors, this would be a good time to go take a nap...**

* * *

><p>"You <em>stupid<em>, fucking jar! Damn you! Damn you to **hell!**"

Draco sighed and tossed his book away, observing Weasley with a blend of annoyance and bemusement. On one hand, the ape had interrupted his reading. On the other, how often did one come across a grown man battling an innocuous little container and losing? The blond regarded the sight with a morbid fascination. It was like a hippogriff feeding- no matter how much you tried to look away, you just couldn't.

Then again, Harry had asked him to try and get along with his asinine best friend, so Draco sighed and made his weary way across the Eighth Year common room.

"For Merlin's sake, Weasel," he drawled. "Calm down before you hurt yourself."

Weasley ignored him in favour of grunting and trying to tug the stubborn jar off his right hand- a hand which, by the way was currently closed around no less than four cookies. Draco raised his eyes heavenwards, silently praying for divine intervention. Or at the very least, patience. Neither was ever very forthcoming where Weasleys were involved and this time was no different. The ex Slytherin sighed. Clearly, he would have to rely on his keen wit and intellect to extract the idiot from his glass prison.

"I'm not an expert on these things, but I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest letting _go_ of a cookie or two?"

Weasley ceased his escape attempts and gave Draco a blank look. "Let go of…are you even _listening_ to yourself?" he demanded incredulously. "That sort of crazy talk is why we'll never be friends!"

Draco would only have been too happy to agree but he had promised Harry to at least try. And if he was successful, there was a good chance of wheedling a reward or two out of his generous boyfriend. Yes. Yes, that could…

"Surrender my prize, Tupperware demon! Give it give it **give it!"**

Weasley proceeded to thunk the vessel against the floor while issuing threats that would have made Aunt Bellatrix beat a hasty retreat. Draco watched the epic struggle with renewed interest. If they'd had the good sense to stash some chocolate frogs in the Dark Lord's chambers, the war could have been ended in twenty minutes flat.

The jar was a worthy adversary though and Draco considered assisting Weasley. It was only fair seeing that the jar had the advantage of superior intelligence. Thus, it was with the most noble of intentions that he decided to step in before Potter's pet ape hurt himself.

"Look, how about…"

"Miserable keeper of deliciousness!"

"Weasel, this is getting out of…"

"Vile vessel of Satan!"

"For Merlin's sake! If you would just hold on a…"

"That's it, jar! You're asking for it! **Cru**_…_"

"Okay okay!" Draco squawked in alarm, snatching up the idiot's wand before he did something drastic. Warily, he sat across from the sulking ginger. "Let's hold off on the Unforgivables until we've exhausted every other possibility," he offered. Weasley glowered but remained mercifully silent until Draco pulled out his wand.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, scuttling back a bit.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hex you, you imbecile. Harry would have my head on a platter. Hold still." Weasley stiffened as Draco wedged the tip of his wand into the jar, positioning it to aim at the ginger's fist.

_"Lubricus."_

Weasley yelped and Draco smirked as he retracted his wand. "Try pulling out now."

The spell had done its work well. With one swift tug Weasley came free with the cookies in his victorious grasp.

"Finally!" he cheered, chucking the Jar of Pain and Misery away. "Not too shabby with the spells there, Malfoy. What was that?"

"A standard Lubrication Charm, Weasley," Draco drawled, suppressing the urge to make a scathing remark. There was no point in being snarky _after_ rescuing daft Gryffindors from certain demise at the hands of an urn. The whole purpose was defeated. "And speaking of Charms, we're late for class."

Weasley demolished the rest of the cookies in an impressive ten seconds and they exited the common room, walking down the hall together. "Listen Malfoy," Weasley spoke up. "Thanks for that Lubrication Spell. I would never have been able to pull it out otherwise."

"Stop thanking me, Weasley," Draco smirked. "Merlin knows I would have lost it if you'd stayed stuck in there any longer."

Neither heard the shocked gasp echo behind them. Lavender Brown dropped her books and her jaw as she stared after the boys, hardly able to believe what she'd heard.

Ron and _Malfoy?_

"Godric's girdle!" she squeaked, leaning against a wall for support as she replayed the raunchy conversation in her head. No wonder her fling with Ron hadn't worked out! And wasn't Malfoy seeing _Harry? _What about Ron and Hermione? Lavender smiled smugly as she imagined Hermione's reaction to the news. She hadn't been on speaking terms with the frizzy haired priss since Sixth Year and apparently now the golden couple was done for. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Right into Malfoy's waiting arms, apparently.

Lavender wrung her hands in sheer delight and took off with single minded determination. This gossip wouldn't spread itself, after all.

* * *

><p>"Pull the other one, Lavender," Seamus declared with an eye roll as he returned to his mashed potatoes. It was lunch and Lavender had barrelled in with the most bizarre rumour ever. He was only thankful neither Harry nor Hermione were around to hear what she'd cooked up this time. "You've come up with some strange stuff in the past, but <em>this<em>…"

"But it's true!" Lavender insisted. "I heard them discussing their rendezvous. Ron even thanked him for using lubrication and…"

"Oi!" Dean sputtered in protest. "Can we not go into the details? I'm eating here."

"Mm, I wouldn't mind," Seamus smirked. "Ron's alright and Malfoy's rather fit. I just don't see it happening. Ron's not like that. He'd _never_ hook up with his best friend's boyfriend. And a Slytherin, at that…"

Theo Nott- who had been listening to the bizarre conversation in silence- raised a discriminating eyebrow. "Speaking on behalf of Slytherins," he drawled. "I think I can safely say that Draco puts Blast Ended Skrewts above Weasley on the dating scale. Besides, have you _seen_ him and Potter together? It's nauseating."

"But I saw…" Lavender began.

"You _think_ you saw," Dean put in sagely. "Could've been something else entirely. Now can we please change the subject? I really don't want to talk about this while I'm eating…"

He trailed off as Malfoy strolled over to the table and nicked a roll. Seamus busied himself with his mashed potatoes and Lavender fixed the blond with a beady eyed stare as if mentally willing him to confess to his crimes. Only Nott managed a neutral, pleasant expression.

"What's with the dine and dash, Draco?" he asked conversationally. Malfoy clapped his shoulder and greeted the rest of the table with a perfunctionary nod. At least being with Harry had made him a lot more pleasant, Dean mused.

"Need to catch up on Charms," he replied. "I missed half the lesson thanks to Weasley."

The reactions were instantaneous. Lavender gasped and Seamus immediately choked on his mouthful. Even Nott's eyes flickered a bit. Dean sighed and pushed his plate away.

"You did?" he asked, dreading the answer.

Malfoy frowned at the gaggle of goggling Gryffindors before nodding and waving a dismissive hand. "The idiot was going to break his wrist so I lent him a hand."

"Really?" Nott enquired easily, even as Lavender started rocking back and forth and Seamus gulped down his pumpkin juice. "And…how did it all work out?"

"He got what he was after," Malfoy smirked. "Easily pleased, that one."

"That's how I remember it," Lavender muttered. Seamus nudged her in the ribs to shut her up. "So," he attempted. "You and Harry…"

Malfoy started. "That's right, I nearly forgot. I need to talk to Harry. Has anyone seen him?" His query elicited nothing but awkward mumbles.

Draco shook his head and shrugged. "He'll show up sooner or later. I should get back to the common room." He swiped up another roll. "Oh and if you lot run into Weasley, tell him he owes me one."

And with that, the blond turned and exited, leaving a group of very distraught Eighth Years in his wake.

"Ha!" Lavender crowed. "What did I tell you? Didn't I tell you?"

Well, some were more distraught than others…

"Bloody hell," Seamus mumbled.

"I think I'm done with lunch," Dean declared wanly, vanishing his plate. "For the next two years or so."

Even Theo's facade crumbled as he slumped back in his chair, with the air of a man whose world view had been drastically altered- and not for the better. "That was…disorienting," he managed. "Can we all agree to pretend we didn't hear about it?"

Seamus and Dean mumbled in agreement and Theo nodded. "Brilliant. So let's just let this one go. No need to mention it to Potter or Granger. Or anyone else. Ever again."

"Fine," Seamus mumbled.

"Works for me," Dean nodded. He looked around to see if anyone was listening and frowned. "Oi, where did Lavender go?"

* * *

><p>Hermione stared at Lavender for a whole three minutes after she had winded down.<p>

"You heard what now?" she finally managed.

"I didn't hear it. I _saw_ it," Lavender replied smugly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You saw Malfoy snogging my boyfriend," she clarified.

"Well, no. But I saw them talking about it and…"

"So you did in fact, _hear_ it."

Lavender huffed. "Can we focus less on the semantics and more on the ruin of your love life?" Honestly, did she have to draw this girl a map? "I heard them discussing their latest…encounter. Malfoy cast a Lubrication charm on Ron and I _specifically_ heard him say that…"

Hermione broke in before this got any worse. "Well gosh, thanks for the update Lavender. But I'll believe it when I see it."

Lavender tossed her hair back and fixed Hermione with a smug, superior stare. "Whatever works for you. But just for the record, _I_ said the same thing when he started dating you and here we are. Just thought I'd give you a heads up, is all."

"Right," Hermione sighed, picking up her books and heading out of the library. Honestly, Ron and Malfoy? What would they think of next? A couple of passing Hufflepuffs paused to stare at her and she rolled her eyes. Apparently, news was spreading. Perhaps, she should talk to Ron about this nonsense…

She was still deep in thought as she entered the Eighth Year common room. Almost immediately, Harry barrelled in after her. Hermione observed her best friend quizzically. He looked harried and horrified and absolutely out of sorts. Clearly, he had heard. Sure enough…

"You will not believe what Parvati just told me!" he blurted.

"Don't bother. I already heard it from the source," Hermione replied. "Have you seen Draco yet?"

Harry sighed and slumped in an armchair. "No, I've been looking for him everywhere," he muttered. He stared at her uneasily. "You don't think it's…"  
>"True?" Hermione finished sternly. "Honestly Harry, are you actually asking me if our boyfriends would cheat on us with each other? I can't speak for Malfoy, but Ron would never…"<p>

"Neither would Draco!" Harry snapped, coming to his boyfriend's defence at once. His own words registered belatedly and he sighed and scrubbed at his hair. "No, you're right. Of course, they wouldn't. Ron's my best mate and Draco's brilliant. I guess I just got caught up in it…"

"I think we should just find them and ask what started this ridiculous…"

She was cut off mid sentence by a cheery shout ringing in the common room. "Oi Malfoy, guess what?" Ron called as he ambled in. "I've finally got this lubrication thing down. We won't be having any more trouble with…oh hey, Harry, Mione. Seen Malfoy around? I've got to tell him about the…**ACK!**"

Hermione barely had time to blink. One moment, Harry was sitting next to her. The next moment, he was charging for Ron and trying to throttle the very life out of him. They crashed to the floor in a flurry of crashes and howls. She screeched in horror and whipped out a wand to separate them, before recalling that Harry was currently trying to strangle _her_ cheating, two timing louse of a boyfriend. Hermione pursed her lips and pocketed the wand.

**"It's true?!" **Harry howled, thunking the ginger's head on the floor. "You and Draco? It's fucking **_true?!_****"**

"The bloody hell is wrong with you?!" Ron howled, punching back out of pure instinct. "What the hell is…Hermione, he's gone mental! Stop him!"

"Stop Harry," Hermione deadpanned from the couch. "Stop. Stop it right now."

"I'm going to _murder_ you!" Harry bellowed, punching viciously. "You and Draco both! How dare you! How the bloody hell did you..."

"What's gotten into you?!" Ron howled. "You _asked_ me to get along with him!"

**"Not like that I didn't!"**

"Fuck, Harry! Will you calm down! I was just trying to get a cookie out of the bloody jar!"

**"His cookies are ****_mine_****, you bastard! And his jar too!"**

_"What?!"_

It was at this point, that Draco came barrelling down the stairs. He screeched to the halt and his jaw dropped as he took in the carnage. "Harry! What in the name of Merlin…release Weasley at once!"

"I'll get to you later!" Harry bellowed. "First I'm going to kill _him!"_

"What the fuck is going…" The remainder of his sentence trailed off as Granger sprang up and charged at him, wand pointed straight at his throat. Draco's eyes widened and he scrambled up the stairs for purchase. "Granger, what…"

"You foul, evil, loathsome little **cockroach!" **she screamed. Draco swallowed. Nothing good ever followed that particular declaration. And Granger was decidedly more pissed this time, for whatever reason. "How dare you subject my boyfriend to your...your _attentions?_ **How dare you?!" **

"What the hell are you so mad about?" Draco squawked. "He needed a hand and I helped him out! _You_ weren't there so…"

"That's your excuse?" she hissed. "I wasn't there and you decided to '_help_ him out'?"

Draco sneered. "Oh that's just great. I finally do something nice for Weasley and _this_ is what I get!"

Hermione nearly imploded. "That **does it!** You and me! Outside! Right now, harlot!"

Draco gaped at her, utterly dumbfounded. None of this was making any sense, and her wand was _still_ at his throat. Clearly, this was a time for action. He turned to Weasley who was still being ground into the carpet by his spitting mad boyfriend. "What the hell did you tell them?!" he demanded.

"Nothing! They're mad about the cookies!"

"What? _Why?_"

"How the hell should I know?!"

Harry howled and lunged for Weasley again, cutting off any more conversation.

Well, that was helpful.

Squaring his shoulders, Draco pushed past Granger and marched over, wrenching Harry off the ginger. His boyfriend flailed and snarled, dragging Weasley a couple feet before finally letting go.

"Stop it!" Draco snapped, shaking him angrily. "What the fuck is going on?"

"You tell me!" Harry shouted back, his green eyes full of hurt. "I thought we had something, Draco! How could you do this to me? And with my best friend!"

"What are you talking about?" Draco snarled. "Weasley and I have been nothing but civil. How dare you conduct yourself in such a boorish manner? Explain yourself at once!"

"I'll explain myself when you explain why you and Ron felt the need for a lubrication charm!"

Draco froze as if he'd been Petrified. His jaw dropped for the second time in ten minutes. He could barely put together a coherent sentence, he was that aghast. "You thought…you think we're…oh my **god!"**

Weasley seemed to have caught on as well. His eyes widened and his face paled. "They _didn't_," he managed in a shocked whisper.

Draco's lip curled in disgust. "They did."

"Eeew!" Weasley screeched, echoing Draco's sentiments rather succinctly. "Oh my Merlin! Eeew eeew **EEEW!"**

"My feelings exactly!"

"What is _wrong_ with them?!"

"Why are we dating them?!"

"What's wrong with _us?!_"

"Enough! _What_ is going on here?" Hermione demanded.

Draco turned on her and he must have looked pretty dangerous because she actually squeaked and took a step back. "What's going on is that I rescued your idiot boyfriend from a **cookie jar!"** he hissed.

"What?!" Harry blurted out.

Draco didn't even dignify him with a sneer. "I cast a lubrication charm on his _hand _to get it out of the jar! And apparently, _you_ two…" he paused to glare witheringly at the cowering Gryffindors. "…you _actually_ thought that we were…"

**"Eeew!"** Weasley put in, evidently feeling the need to emphasize this point. "No offence, Malfoy."

"None taken."

Weasley shook his head, looking utterly traumatised. "Can you believe this shite? We try to get along and _this_ is what they do to us."

Hermione wrung her hands. "Ron, I'm so sorry! I…"

"Forget it, Mione," Ron mumbled, getting up and brushing his trousers clean. "I'm out of here."

"Me too," Draco declared. "Come on, Weasley. Let's go."

Harry padded after him, looking utterly stricken. "Draco, please. I just…"

"Save it, Potter. _We_ don't want to hear it."

And then with head held high and Weasley stoutly at his side, he stalked out of the common room.

* * *

><p>It was late at night when Harry tried to approach him again. Draco sneered and curled into the couch. Granger had already apologised profusely and he had grudgingly forgiven her. Weasley had put up a rather strong front- clearly intending to drag out the guilt trip a bit longer. But considering the obscene amount of noise they were making up in the boys' dorm, he would crack soon enough. That said Draco was in no mood to talk to, let alone forgive his stupid, jealous, suspicious boyfriend.<p>

To his credit, Harry looked suitably shamefaced. He scuffed his shoes and ran an awkward hand through his hair before settling on the other side of the couch. Draco narrowed his eyes but made no further acknowledgement.

"I apologised to Ron," Harry offered in a small voice.

"And?"

"He forgave me. Well, he punched me a couple times but not too hard, so I'm assuming he's okay."

Draco fought the urge to snicker. "Weasley is very gracious," he offered curtly. He fixed the cringing Gryffindor with a withering glare. Harry shrank into himself before bolstering up the rest of his courage and speaking again. "Draco…" he began.

"Don't even bother."

"But I…" he sighed and sidled over, closer to the blond. Draco stiffened but made no move to get up. Harry regarded him with guilty, green eyes before tentatively reaching out and taking his hand. Draco grudgingly allowed the contact and Harry smiled hesitantly, squeezing his fingers gently.

"I can't even begin to express how sorry I am," he said quietly. "I didn't stop to think and…I should have known better. Both you _and_ Ron. You'd never hurt me and…and I think somewhere inside me I knew that. But the thought of losing you…I couldn't handle it. I lost it and I am so, _so_ sorry for what I said and did. I just…"

"You should have trusted me," Draco replied evenly.

"I know. I just couldn't handle the thought of not having you anymore. It…it just really hurt."

"Did you even consider talking to me first?" Draco demanded. Harry mumbled unintelligibly, staring miserably at his shoes. Draco rolled his eyes and moved towards him, wrapping an arm around his idiot boyfriend. Harry practically melted into his embrace, pulling him closer. Draco smiled and ruffled his hair. "Stupid prat," he murmured.

"Your stupid prat?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Yes, you sot," Draco smirked. "But the next time you pull such a stunt, Merlin save you from my wrath."

"I won't. So long as you don't lubricate my friends anymore," Harry chuckled weakly. Draco felt firm lips move against his neck as Harry smiled and he shivered pleasantly.

"I hope you don't think you're off the hook, Potter," he drawled. "You're making this up to me."

"I am?" Harry mumbled, disentangling himself and looking at Draco uneasily. "How?" The blond smirked and leaned over to whisper in his ear. By the time he was finished, Harry looked both painfully aroused and utterly resigned.

"Really? Here in the common room? Where anyone could just walk in and…"

"Well, if you don't want to apologise for accusing me of cheating on you with your best friend…"

"Okay okay!" Harry snapped, getting up. He grumbled under his breath as he tugged his shoes and socks off. Draco smirked and leaned back on the sofa, enjoying the show as Harry unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his trousers. When his pants came off and his cock sprang free, Draco bit his lip and unbuttoned his own trousers, stroking his rigid cock through his boxers. Harry stood before him, completely naked and more than a little awkward about the whole thing.

"Do we have to have sex here?" he mumbled unhappily. His cock however, didn't seem very daunted by the prospect and bobbed enthusiastically.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Bend over on the couch," he ordered shortly.

Harry sighed and obliged. Draco hissed in pleasure as he reached out and squeezed a plump arse cheek. "I'm going to enjoy this," he smirked.

"This is starting to feel like overkill," Harry grumbled.

Draco responded with a light swat. "It could be worse."

Harry lifted his head to scowl at him. "How?" he demanded. "How could it possibly be worse?"

Draco's lips stretched in an evil grin and he pulled out his cock. "I could have Weasley come out here and cast the Lubrication charm on you."


	80. Of Suns and Spots

**An old oneshot I unearthed from...somewhere**

**Enjoy^^**

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><p>Draco hummed happily and stretched his limbs, arching up against the couch in a very satisfied manner. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he enjoyed sharing his living space with a bunch of self righteous, annoying Gryffindors, but he had to admit it had its upsides.<p>

Ever since his return to Hogwarts, all the 'Eighth Year' students had been unceremoniously dumped in the Gryffindor Tower 'until further notice'. Normally, this was a Very Bad Thing. However, the tower got its fair share of sunlight on those lazy weekend mornings and after six years of living in a drafty dungeon and dealing with Blaise's alarming levels of possessiveness where his Extra Fluffy Super Awesome Blanket was concerned, Draco was feeling rather appreciative of his hard earned sunshine.

So there he was, curled up on a conveniently positioned couch soaking in the morning rays and frankly, making quite a show of it. He closed his eyes and arched and stretched, reveling in the warm caresses against his skin, twisting every now and then so as to not miss a single second of his new found heaven. It was wonderful.

And then the unthinkable happened.

Mid stretch, Draco was made aware of a very chilling reality. Literally so, because for some unfathomable reason the glorious warmth was gone. His beautiful patch of sunlight had legged it, leaving Draco cold and shivery and unhappy. Very, _very_ unhappy. He sprang up and glared around accusingly, searching for the source of his discomfort.

He really shouldn't have been surprised.

Potter was staring down at him, having situated himself right between Draco and his little slice of heaven. Draco's eyes narrowed in unbridled outrage. Potter had done some nasty things to him in the past (mostly at Draco's provocation but that was besides the point) but this! This was sacrilege!

"What do you want?" he demanded, through clenched teeth. Potter was lucky he didn't have his wand on hand, because Draco would have been more than happy to add to the prat's ridiculous list of nicknames. The Boy Who Lived to Look Like Swiss Cheese had a nice ring to it.

"Huh?" Potter countered intelligently, still gaping at him. Draco scowled. He had no time for gawking Potters (even if they did look rather appealing at the moment what with the darkened eyes and slightly parted lips). Especially when said Potters were doing the gawking while selfishly soaking up all the sun- _Draco's _sun! Draco's! Not Potter's!

"What do you want, Potter?" he repeated, unable to keep the bite out of voice. His feet were freezing and he tucked his legs under himself, glowering accusingly at Potter all the while.

That seemed to snap Potter out of it. He shook his head as if to dislodge the cobwebs that no doubt inhabited his oversized cranium, cleared his throat and shuffled about uselessly. And then (as only Potter could), he proceeded to spur Draco into a murderous rage simply by existing.

"You're going to have to move, Malfoy."

Draco bristled and sprawled adamantly on the sofa, splaying his legs in the process. "Do I now?" he challenged. Potter's eyes darkened but he stayed on course.

"Yes, you do," he affirmed, crossing his arms defensively. "I'm fucking freezing. Besides, this is my spot."

Oh, it was _on_. "I don't see your name on it," Draco argued.

Potter smirked and leaned forward, reaching for him. Draco started in surprise as cool, firm fingers wrapped around his slim wrist. Potter hand lingered for a few unfathomably electric seconds, and then he shifted Draco's hand off the arm rest.

"See?" he taunted, gesturing at a haphazard ink scrawl against the leather. Draco scowled at it. _'This is __Harry Potter's __Spot. Potter's, not yours!'_ stared back at him mockingly. It seemed that the prick had the right of it. That being said, Draco was in no mood to play ball.

"Well, your spot is in my sun," he supplied, lifting his chin in defiance. "So naturally, it's my spot now."

"_Your_ sun?!"

"Yes, _my _sun!"

"I don't see your name on it!" Potter countered triumphantly.

"Oh, it's there," Draco smirked. "Feel free to fly off and check."

He allowed himself a surge of vindictive satisfaction as Potter gaped at him, gob smacked. Draco smirked and turned away, dismissing the prat.

Potter refused to be dismissed.

"Get out of my spot, you git!" he snapped, grabbing hold of Draco's arm for leverage and yanking him roughly.

"Let me go, you stupid, childish tosser!" Draco yelled back, grabbing hold of the sofa with every intention of taking it to his grave if he had to.

"_I'm_ being childish?" Potter blurted incredulously, planting a leg on the couch and pulling frantically at Draco's almost dislocated arm. "You think you own the sun! Now get the fuck off of my spot!"

Draco growled in outrage and pulled back. "It's _my_ spot now! It's not my fault you left it lying around in _my_ sun!"

"Oh you want to play it like that?" Potter bellowed, clambering over him in an effort to squirm on to the sofa. "Well, you got 'your sun' all over my spot so how about that?!" He grappled with Draco, who shrieked as he was very nearly dislodged and grabbed hold of Potter's stupid, broad shoulders. The Gryffindor was hard and toned under his hands and Draco blinked as he realized they were very close to each other. Potter was staring at him as well, practically inches away- his hair askew and his spectacles glinting in the sunlight and…wait a minute. **Glinting in the ****_sunlight_****?!**

"Get out of my sun!" Draco howled, pushing violently at the infuriating Gryffindor. "Get out get out get out!"

"That's it!" Potter snarled, tipping the blond over and straddling him. Draco squeaked in surprise as he found himself pinned under a very angry Boy Who Lived. Potter was so close that his hair brushed against Draco's cheek and the blond let out a tiny gasp. Potter blinked in surprise, his expression quickly turning to dawning comprehension. Draco squirmed as Potter smirked and leaned in further, pushing their groins together. Draco moaned and arched at the sudden contact and Potter's smirk widened.

"Now let me see if I got this right," he mused, trailing a hand down Draco's hip. "If my spot just happens to be in your sun, it's yours?"

"Yes," Draco mumbled defiantly, even as he bared his neck in invitation.

Potter chuckled and obliged him, tilting his head to nip lightly at the tantalizing flesh. "So again- just for my understanding- if it's in your...territory, it's belongs to you?" he questioned, closing his teeth around Draco's skin in a gentle bite.

Draco made a garbled noise that could probably be construed as agreement. At least, Potter seemed to think so.

"Good," he grinned. "Because I just found a pretty, blond git lounging around in _my _spot and I think I'm going to keep him."

And with that, he crushed his lips against Draco's and (as only Potter could) proceeded to snog the living daylights out of him.

* * *

><p>They lay tangled up in each other for hours afterwards.<p>

Draco yawned as he woke- warm and contented- only to find himself wrapped up in Gryffindor. Potter was still half on top of him, eyes closed and arms slung around him possessively. He looked peaceful and content and...he was hogging all the sunlight _again_!

Draco scowled, debating whether or not to hex the prat into next week. Then Potter rolled over with a murmured _'Draco'_ and buried his face in the blond's neck. Great. Draco sighed in defeat and nuzzled back in his embrace.

He supposed he could get used to sharing his sun. As long as Potter played fair and shared his spot.

It was the principle of the thing, after all.


	81. Draco's Mean Cousin

**Where Sirius is alive and very, very mean. Contains references from "The Ring".**

* * *

><p>Harry jumped as the doorbell rang- a shrill, sharp sound shattering his hard earned moment of tranquillity. He frowned. It was after ten and he certainly wasn't expecting company. He went over a mental list in his head. Ron and Hermione were in Australia, visiting her parents. Teddy and Andromeda only came by in the afternoon. And Draco was…<p>

Oh no.

Harry hurried over to the door, swinging it open to reveal his distraught boyfriend. Draco didn't waste time on pleasantries. He immediately glommed on to Harry, snuffling into his shirt. Instinctively, Harry's arms wrapped around his upset, shaky boyfriend and he stroked his hair soothingly.

"Hey you," he crooned softly. For someone who was the very epitome of aloof and put together, it was astounding how much Draco could resemble a terrified little kitten when the occasion called for it. Harry's protective instincts came to the forefront and he tightened his hold, nuzzling into Draco's blond hair. "What's wrong?" he asked, even though he had a fairly good idea.

"Your godfather is a Very Bad Man," Draco declared sullenly.

And ten points to Gryffindor. Harry suppressed the urge to groan. In retrospect, he should have known better. A few weeks ago, Sirius had inexplicably got it into his head that bonding with Draco was the thing to do. This by itself wasn't a bad idea- considering that Draco _was_ his cousin, and Harry had been dating said cousin for about four months now. That said, Draco was currently in his arms shaking like a leaf and there was a very good chance that a certain ex Marauder was responsible.

"What did he do?" Harry asked wearily. The sheer possibilities for mayhem when Sirius was involved were exponential.

"It was horrible," Draco sniffed, burrowing into him again.

"What was horrible?" Harry pressed.

Draco clenched at his shoulders and sniffed fretfully. "She…she came out of the box," he whined. "She…she _crawled_ out the box and… Merlin, I can't even _say _it!"

Harry frowned, unable to get any sense out of his babbling boyfriend. "Um…who came out of the box?" he asked finally.

Draco disentangled himself and stared at Harry with huge, frightened eyes. "S-samara," he whispered.

He whimpered in terror and wrapped himself around his boyfriend again. Harry held on, suppressing the urge to bang his head against the wall. Honestly, of all the stupid things to do…

Shaking his head, he ushered Draco indoors and finally succeeded in depositing him on the couch. Draco pouted, clearly unhappy at being left alone and Harry pressed a kiss to his forehead before marching over to fetch his phone. He would have tried the floo, but Sirius was rather taken with muggle technology these days and had taken to ignoring his boring, old fireplace in favour of a shiny, new cell-phone. Harry couldn't help a mental eye-roll as he punched in the number.

Sirius answered on the second ring. "I was wondering when you'd call," he chortled, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Harry was not amused. "You showed him _The Ring?_" he gritted. "Why in Merlin's name would you do that?"

"Hey, why not?" Sirius demanded, sounding affronted. "It's a great movie!"

"Draco is afraid of the toaster on a good day!" Harry snapped. "You scared him half to death and now I have to calm him down."

He was not appeased when Sirius started snickering. "Yeah, he's a jumpy one isn't he? Cute, though. I can see why you like him."

Harry groaned. "Sirius, I can't believe I have to say this to a grown man. You're not supposed to traumatise my boyfriend!"

"Oh come on, it was just a movie," Sirius scoffed. "Oh _fine_, I'll apologize. Put the kid on the phone."

"Thank you," Harry muttered, approaching Draco and handing him the phone. "He wants to talk to you," he explained. The blond accepted the device reluctantly and manhandled it to his ear. "What?" he mumbled. Harry discerned some sort of muttering from the other end and assumed Sirius was making a contrite apology.

He was firmly disabused of this optimistic notion when Draco shrieked in indignation and _screamed_ into the device.

"Black, you **bastard!** I am **not** going to die in seven days! Don't ever talk to me again, you twat!"

He flung the phone and Harry watched it sail off, the sounds of Sirius' cackling still faintly audible. Right, then. He gave up and approached Draco, pulling him into a hug. "Hey now," he murmured. "It's okay. I've got you."

"He's a jerk," Draco sniffed.

Harry grinned. "He's just teasing," he murmured placatingly. "He's actually quite fond of you."

"The feeling is _not_ mutual."

Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting his lips trace Draco's soft skin. "Poor thing," he murmured softly against his jaw line. "What can I do to make it better?"

Draco hummed in approval and tilted his head, giving Harry better access. "A good shag might distract me," he replied coyly.

"My thoughts exactly," Harry smirked, pushing him back against the sofa. He brushed his lips against Draco's, placing one hand on his nape to pull him into a snog and the other on the sofa to support his weight.

Really, it was just a cosmic middle finger that said hand had to land on the innocuous, little remote control.

It all happened in a second…

The television flickered to life with a low buzz. Harry didn't even realize what was happening until Draco's shrill, terrified shriek rang out. And then, his boyfriend was wide eyed and scrambling back against the couch, brandishing a wand.

"What the…"

"Die, you horrible bitch! **Reducto!"**

There was a bang of epic proportions and Harry took cover behind a cushion as the television exploded into smithereens. Wreckage flew across the room with myriad bangs and crashes, followed by ominous silence. By the time Harry was able to unearth himself, the telly was a smoking pile of plastic and wires and Draco had barricaded himself in the bathroom. Harry could just make out faint, fretful mutterings about rings and Samaras and _oh god oh god oh god_...

He sighed and retrieved his phone, punching in a now familiar number. This time, he didn't even give Sirius a second to chortle out a greeting. "You owe me a new telly," he snapped. "And next time, stick to cartoons." And then he chucked the phone away and made his way to the loo, preparing to resume his boyfriend retrieval efforts.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews, pretty please? *bats lashes*<strong>


	82. The French Fry Thief

**One shot written for prompts on LJ: ****_Beat the heat_**** and ****_summer at the beach. _Plus, I really miss writing next gen and this was a good excuse...**

**Enjoy, lovelies!**

* * *

><p>Harry smiled as he watched the waves swipe gently at the sandy shore. Rocky cliffs crowned the little beach alcove and left him with a feeling of peaceful seclusion. Granted it was a little lonely out here on his own, but Harry figured that this solo vacation thing was good for him. He had been feeling a little overwhelmed lately. His public persona hardly left any potential for privacy and there was little he could do to discourage the constant attention. It seemed that he was being accosted for interviews and autographs wherever he went.<p>

So here he was hiding out in a little beach shack on an ocean shore, miles from home. But at least he could sit back with a good book. Relax. Beat the heat. Maybe eat a nice meal without worrying about sudden camera flashes going off in his face and…

His inner monologue came to an abrupt halt at a sudden scuffling under his table. Harry stiffened and put his book down, just in time to see a small hand emerge from…somewhere and bat around his table. He gaped as tiny fingers scrabbled about, making a frantic search of the immediate surroundings before finally planting themselves in his plate. There was a victorious gurgle from under his table and before Harry could even consider reacting, a tiny fist closed around an unsuspecting French fry and made off with it.

"What the…"

He was given no time to protest. The hand returned for an encore- far more certain of its target this time- and locked in on another chip. Harry watched in helpless fascination as it disappeared smoothly, yet again. Whatever it was, it was hungry.

He backed away and lifted the tablecloth slowly, immediately finding himself staring into huge, grey eyes. The little boy blinked back at him- long, blond lashes fluttering over aforementioned huge, grey eyes- somewhat surprised at being caught in the act. Shaggy blond hair fell over a wide forehead in a messy fringe, almost hiding the pale, blond brows from Harry's immediate view. Even as he stared, those brows furrowed in a defiant frown and a small mouth turned down in an unmistakable, accusing pout.

Harry grinned. Apparently, _he_ was the one being rude here…

"Hello," he tried, attempting to make nice. "Are you the free toy that comes with my meal?"

"No."

There was a tinge of indignation in that tone- a slight inflection suggesting that Harry was an idiot for even considering such a thing. Such an affronted expression on such a small face…it was just too damn cute. Harry couldn't resist prolonging the conversation.

"Oh, I see," he replied sincerely. "My mistake. Are you enjoying that fry?"

"No." That being said, the tiny fist he had recently become acquainted with closed firmly around the fry in an obvious refusal to relinquish it.

"That's too bad," Harry said, trying not to look too amused. "Would you like another one?"

"No," the toddler replied firmly. Even so he extended his hand, regarding Harry expectantly. Harry couldn't help himself. He chuckled.

"I have a feeling that's the only word you know," he said, selecting a few chips and surrendering them to the small tyke. He couldn't be more than two years old…

"No."

This latest bout of negation was followed by a bit of urgent shuffling. Harry backed away obligingly and the toddler squirmed out from under the table and planted his tiny little hands on a chair, attempting to climb up on it. Harry watched the unsuccessful attempts with mild interest. Finally, his little guest huffed in frustration and glowered at him, prompting Harry to offer assistance.

"Need some help?"

"No."

As he had recently learnt, this meant _yes _so Harry wasted no time in lifting Blondie up and depositing him on to the chair.

"There we go. Better now?"

The _no _he had been expecting was abandoned in favour of a handful of fries. Harry grinned at the blatant thievery, rather enjoying his grouchy little guest's company. It struck him that he should probably be alerting someone to look for the child's parents, but it was so much more fun talking to him. He had such varying views on so many different subjects. Soon, he found himself involved in a very scintillating, if somewhat one-sided conversation.

"What are your views on broccoli?"

"No."

"Daytime television?"

"No."

"Nuclear warfare?"

"No."

"My feelings exactly. How about…"

"Scorpius, there you are!"

Harry blinked as an anxious blur shot past him, crouching beside his lunch companion. He found himself looking down at a head of white blond hair- not unlike Blondie's at all. He couldn't quite see the man's face, considering that he was too busy with his son to spare a glance. But he could make an educated guess. In fact, Harry was very sure he knew just where his pint sized friend had acquired that combination of blond hair and attitude.

"…absolutely not okay to run off on your own like that!" Malfoy sounded so _parental, _it was almost funny_. _Harry grinned as he shook his head wearily and started off again. "Do you have any idea how worried Father was?"

"No."

Malfoy groaned. "Merlin help me, not this again…"

Harry couldn't resist breaking into the conversation. "Not very accommodating, is he? I wonder where he gets it from."

Malfoy's head snapped towards him, grey eyes blinking in surprise. Almost immediately, his brows arched in a defensive glare. It was just so similar to Blondie's- _Scorpius'_- reaction to him that Harry couldn't help laughing. "Nice to see you too, Malfoy."

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy demanded warily. "And…how exactly did you acquire my son?"

"Actually, he acquired me. My fries, more specifically."

Malfoy blinked a few more times before turning back to his son. "Surely I've taught you better than to go around stealing greasy food from strangers."

"No."

"You just walked into that one," Harry chuckled.

Malfoy responded a half smile as he ran a hand through his hair. "Of all the words he could have picked up," he said, shaking his head. A slight breeze ruffled his hair and Harry took a moment to let his gaze travel down Malfoy's lean, tapered body. At the very least, Scorpius would grow up to be a _very_ attractive young man…

"How exactly did you wind up making something so cute?" he found himself asking.

Malfoy arched a brow and smirked. "I hardly think that's appropriate conversation with a minor in the vicinity. And Merlin forbid he pick up words of _that_ sort to repeat every ten minutes. His mother would kill me."

Harry nodded stiffly, wondering how he had missed the very obvious detail of Malfoy being married. Little blond boys don't just sprout out of the ground. "Where is your wife?" he asked, striving for a blank, neutral expression. Obviously he failed, because Malfoy's eyes glinted mischievously.

"My _ex_ wife is off vacationing in Paris with her new husband," he stated with a smirk. "Astoria doesn't think much of the beach so it's just me and the french-fry thief here."

"Oh," Harry supplied. He probably could have come up with a better response in due time but the notion of a single and rather fit Malfoy was very distracting. And the fact that single and fit Malfoy seemed to be _flirting_ with him certainly wasn't helping matters much…

"She's missing out," he replied. He hoped Malfoy understood he wasn't talking about the beach...

Apparently, he did. A slow, sultry grin pulled at his lips and Harry shivered as those grey eyes looked him over. "I'm glad you think so," he drawled.

Harry swallowed, and he was on the verge of asking Malfoy out when Scorpius decided to make his presence felt. A fork fell to the ground with a sharp clatter and Malfoy turned back to his son. "We'll just get out your way then, Potter," he said smoothly. "I apologize if Scorpius disturbed your quiet time."

"I didn't mind," Harry smiled. As a matter of fact, he would have been happy to spend more time with Malfoy Junior. Not to mention his gorgeous father…

"Time to go, Scorpius," Malfoy said, helping him off the chair. "Say goodbye to Potter."

"No."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "That's not very nice. You stole his lunch. The least you can do is say thank you."

"No."

"Oh for the love of…we have to go now, son."

He trailed off as Scorpius scurried over and attached himself firmly to Harry. His small body pressed firmly against Harry's leg, small arms just barely wrapping around his thigh. "No," he whined again, staring up at Harry with imploring, grey eyes. Harry crumbled like a house of cards. How could he deny the little angel anything when he looked like that? Those eyes were _dangerous_. Harry could only hope that Scorpius wouldn't want the moon or the Eiffel Tower anytime soon…

"I can tag along if he wants," he suggested haltingly. He raised hopeful eyes at Malfoy. "Maybe just a short walk on the beach?"

Malfoy grinned. "Ten minutes and you're wrapped around his finger. That's just impressive," he teased. "Very well, Potter. But you're carrying him. He obviously likes you."

"I can do that," Harry grinned. "I like him too. What do you say, Scorpius? Up for a little walk on the beach?"

"No."

"That's what I thought," Harry replied, lifting up the little blond. Small fingers curled into his shirt and bright eyes blinked at him. Harry thought he caught a small smile too, but Scorpius turned away- inexplicably shy all of a sudden- and buried his face in Harry's shoulder.

"Ready when you are Potter," Malfoy said, turning away and sauntering off. Harry raised an eyebrow as he admired the delicious curve of Malfoy's arse. With another grin, he followed the blond, taking care not to jostle the smaller blond in his arms.

Vaguely it struck him that he had come all this way to a beach in the middle of nowhere for some privacy, just to get accosted all over again. But- Harry realized as he walked down the beach with Draco by his side and Scorpius in his arms- it wasn't so bad.

No. Not so bad at all...


	83. Malfoy Management

**Sequel to the French Fry Thief (see previous chapter). I wasn't expecting this to span an arc so I apologise if it's not up to the mark. I tried!**

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><p>Harry opened the door and stepped inside, immediately stopping in his tracks as he registered the wreckage that had once been Draco's organised little apartment. Broken dishes, toys strewn all over the floor… Harry blinked, just taking it all in.<p>

It had taken him about a week after returning from his beach vacation to realise that he missed being surrounded by grey eyed blonds in varied shapes and sizes. It had taken him another week to muster up the courage to ask Draco out. The blond had accepted and the rest, as they say is history.  
>Ever since then, Harry had been making a habit of stopping by after work and on the weekends to spend time with his two favourite blonds at said apartment. To the best of his knowledge, it had never been susceptible to gang violence before. Seriously, what the hell had happened here?<p>

His questions were summarily answered as a wail of pure rage emanated from the bedroom down the hall. Harry halted as he recognized the unmistakable sound of a two year old throwing one hell of a hissy fit. It started as a soft keening before heightening to a crescendo- a sound loud and shrill enough to wake the dead. Harry winced as the shrieks descended to a new decibel level. Whatever had happened, Scorpius certainly did not approve. If he listened hard enough, he could just make out Draco's strained tone over the ruckus.

"That's enough, young man. This behaviour is absolutely unacceptable."

"No!"

"And 'no' is not the answer to all of life's great questions."

"No! No! **No!"**

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy! I swear to Merlin if you say that word _one_ more time…where are you going? Come back here this instant!"

Pattering footsteps echoed as Scorpius made his escape into the hall. He skidded to a halt when he caught sight of Harry standing by the door. Harry barely caught a glimpse of huge, teary grey eyes and messy hair before Scorpius _wailed _and charged for him. By the time he came to grips with the situation there was a small blond starfish wrapped around him, bawling into his leg.

"Hey, you," Harry murmured softly.

Scorpius responded by burying his face in Harry's thigh and howling like the damned. Harry reacted by instinct, running a hand through soft, blond locks and making soothing, shushing noises. Scorpius dug his tiny hands into his trousers, anchoring himself to Harry as he sobbed.

Draco had made an appearance by this time as well, stopping short as he saw Harry too. His normally impeccable hair was tousled and Harry suspected he had run his hands through it on more than one occasion this morning. His shirt was ruffled and splattered with food stains and he looked about as happy as his son.

"Dare I ask?" Harry attempted.

His boyfriend sighed and shrugged helplessly. "We are having an off day," he announced.

"Really?" Harry retorted. "I hadn't noticed."

Scorpius went up another octave and Harry sighed, bending down to pick up the little one. Lately, he had become quite adept at carting Scorpius around as he went about his day so it was really no hardship. The small blond curled up and turned huge, wet eyes on him. A single tear tracked its way down his pale cheek and Harry's heart clenched. He shifted him in his arms, cuddling the upset little Malfoy to his chest.

"What's the matter, Blondie?" he crooned, brushing his fringe back and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "What's with the waterworks?"

Scorpius sniffed and hid in the crook of his neck, taking a moment to point a dramatic, accusing finger at his father. Draco threw his arms up in defeat and flopped on the couch. Harry suppressed a chuckle and focused his efforts on handling one Malfoy at a time. Currently, the little one whimpering in his arms was top priority.

"Poor baby," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles into Scorpius' trembling back. "Was Father being mean to you?"

Scorpius nodded fretfully and Draco huffed. "I call favouritism," he grumbled from the couch.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "When _you're_ the one bawling in my arms like the world's about to end, I promise I'll take your side."

Scorpius sniffed and clenched at his shirt, demanding attention. Harry pressed another kiss to his head, making sure he was calm again before approaching the couch and settling next to Draco. He had to physically hold back a grin as father and son shot each other twin scowls of reproach.

"Go on then," he said, addressing Draco as he stroked Scorpius' hair. "What excuse could you possibly have for traumatising my sweet little boy?"

Draco scoffed. "Your _sweet little boy _nearly brought the house down because I asked him to eat his vegetables." He raised an eyebrow as Harry chuckled. "That's right. All this ruckus over a bowl of strained carrots and peas."

Harry made a face. "Strained carrots and peas? Ugh. No wonder he's crying."

"He's crying because he knows you'll cuddle him and pamper him and you won't make him eat his vegetables," Draco accused with a smirk. "Face it, Harry. He's playing you like a harp."

"He is not!" Harry argued, somewhat miffed by the insinuation that his sweet blond angel was capable of such deception.

"Look at him!" Draco protested. Despite his agitation, his lips quirked in an amused grin as Scorpius nuzzled into Harry's chest, sniffing pitifully and bunching his hands in his shirt. Harry responded with a concerned coo, lavishing him with kisses and stroking his hair back. Scorpius looked up at him with shy eyes, raising a small hand to bat at Harry's cheek. Draco suppressed an eye-roll. He could _hear_ his boyfriend melting. It was official. His son was an evil genius.

When the man finally resurfaced from his latest bout of Scorpius snuggling, Draco fixed him with a flat look.

"Like. A. Harp."

Harry huffed. "It's your own fault for having such a cute kid. Anyway, at least _I_ can get him to eat his lunch without wearing most of it." He smirked and gestured at the splatters of food decorating Draco's shirt, eliciting a scowl from his boyfriend.

"Is that so?" Draco challenged, lifting his chin haughtily. "Well go on, miracle worker. Show me how it's done."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "I will." He turned back to his blond bundle, coaxing Scorpius out of his shoulder. "Feeling better, Blondie?" he asked softly.

"No," Scorpius mumbled sulkily.

"That's too bad," Harry clucked. "How about we get some lunch, hm? You don't have to have any if you don't want to."

Scorpius gave it some thought before responding with a small '_kay. _He allowed Harry to carry him over to the table without any protest, although he did make a face at the bowl of carrot mush still sitting there. Harry sat down with the child in his lap, making a series of insincere, appreciative noises at the unsavoury dish.

"Doesn't that look good?" he exclaimed.

Scorpius fixed him with a flat unimpressed look, not unlike Draco's. "No."

Harry was inclined to agree but Draco was leaning at the door frame, watching the proceedings with amusement and he wasn't about to back down now.  
>Squaring his shoulders, he summoned a plate from the kitchen and slopped some of the mush out. "I can't wait to try some," he declared, bringing the spoon to his lips and ignoring the protests of his roiling stomach.<p>

Scorpius watched Harry eating the icky stuff with renewed interest. His brow drew down in a thoughtful frown. Well, if Harry was eating it, it couldn't be _that _bad…

Meanwhile, Harry was trying very hard not to grimace as he swallowed around a tasteless glob of vegetable. It was especially difficult, since Draco wasn't even bothering to hide his snickering anymore. Harry fixed him with a disapproving glare and the blond took a deep breath, composing himself.

"See Scorpius?" he said. "Harry's eating his veggies like a big boy. Don't you want to be a big boy for Harry?"

"Do you want to try some?" Harry coaxed. "I'm only sharing it with you 'cause we're best mates, you know."

The grown-ups watched with bated breath as Scorpius considered that. Seconds seemed like hours and it seemed that ages had passed when a small set of shoulders shrugged and a _'kay _of approval was finally issued.

Victory!

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and spooned some of the mush in an unresisting Scorpius' mouth. The child ate without any more tantrums and Harry grinned triumphantly, feeling like he had won a war all over again. "Well?" he demanded, giving his visibly impressed boyfriend a smug look.

"Quit your job," Draco drawled, leaning over for a quick kiss. "You're never leaving this house again."

"Why Draco," he teased. "Are you asking me to move in?"

The blond flushed, a light pink tinting his cheeks as he regarded Harry. "Maybe," he whispered softly, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "Only if you want to, of course. I understand if…"

Harry smiled and pulled him in for a deeper kiss, enjoying a taste of Draco after that god-awful mush. "I'd like that," he whispered when he finally broke away.

Draco's eyes widened and an incredulous smile pulled at his lips. The sight warmed Harry's heart like nothing else. He had always wanted a family so badly and to have one with Draco and Scorpius…how had he gotten so lucky? He kissed his beautiful boyfriend again, only letting him go with a pang of regret.

"We'll discuss it after you finish feeding the little monster," Draco smiled. "In the meantime, if nobody minds I'm going in for a shower. Maybe get the stench of carrot out of my hair."

Harry's body thrummed with approval at this new information. "Need some help?" he asked.

"Maybe," Draco replied with a sly grin. "Join me if you can put His Highness down for a nap." He departed with a wink and Harry watched his retreating back with a fond smile. "Did you hear that, Scorpius?" he said, nuzzling at the little blond in his lap. "I'm going to come live with you."

"Kay," Scorpius replied.

Harry chuckled and kissed his forehead. "It's going to be perfect," he murmured. Scorpius ignored him in favour of the last spoonful of mush and Harry grinned, cleaning him up and sending the plate back to the kitchen. He could definitely get used to this. The faint sound of water sunning in the shower drifted down the hall and his grin widened. Speaking of things he could get used to, he still had time to claim his reward. This day was starting to look pretty damn perfect.

"Now then," Harry grinned, lifting the little blond up. "How about we get you ready for that nap?"

Scorpius blinked seriously at him, before finally voicing a firm, unyielding response.

"No."


	84. For The Good of the Family

**Following the last two chapters (French Fry Thief and Malfoy Management). The adventures of Scorpius, Harry and Draco continue**

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><p>"Oh, do stop scowling, Lucius. It's most unseemly."<p>

Lucius ignored his beloved wife in favour of glaring at Potter's retreating back. Of all Draco's life decisions that he didn't approve of- and there were many- this certainly made the Top Five. He hadn't been happy when Draco had divorced the Greengrass girl. He had been displeased when his son had moved out of the Manor to a semi muggle locality- apparently wanting Scorpius to experience the best of both worlds and expand his horizons… or some rot like that. Recently, he had been extremely unhappy about Draco's decision to take his only grandson away for an _entire_ week to go gallivanting at the beach.

But Lucius could have handled all of that and more if Draco hadn't returned with Harry bloody Potter firmly in tow.

Now he was being subjected to Potter's presence during dinner at Draco's flat. Potter who was smiling at his son and cooing at his grandson and walking about as if he owned the place- setting tables and pouring wine. And then he had the nerve to suggest that Lucius and Narcissa 'relax' while he took care of the dishes with Draco. That was one step too far and the Malfoy patriarch was seriously considering doing something about it.

"Honestly, Lucius," Narcissa admonished. "Why are you being so difficult? We had a wonderful dinner. Harry is a charming, polite young man. He loves your son and impossible as it may seem, he might actually adore Scorpius more than you do."

"Entirely untrue," Lucius protested vehemently. Nobody adored Scorpius more than him and the suggestion that such a thing was even possible was absolutely unacceptable. Just another of several reasons why Potter needed to go. He scowled as Potter whistled cheerfully and handed Draco another plate, nudging him lightly. Draco responded with a shy smile and Lucius' eyes narrowed dangerously.

Meanwhile, Narcissa was busy subjecting him to a stern look. "Honestly, between the two of you it will be a miracle if that child isn't spoiled rotten."

The child in question made an appearance as if summoned. Scorpius abandoned his vigilance at the window and pattered in to check up on his grandparents.

"There's my darling boy," Narcissa smiled warmly, reaching for Scorpius and pulling him into her arms. "Come here, sweetling."

"Oh, and _I'm_ spoiling him," Lucius scoffed. Narcissa ignored him in favour of cooing over her grandson, fussing and petting and making odd clucking noises that he hadn't heard since Draco had been this age. Scorpius tolerated her affectionate attentions like a soldier, only expressing his disapproval with a tired huff. Lucius observed the scene in silence, regarding his grandson with approval.

Now this one was a _real_ Malfoy.

Draco had been a precocious child back in the day and fairly smart for his age, but he lacked that certain…something Lucius had always hoped for in an heir. His son had never quite imbibed the discipline Lucius had tried to instil in him as a child. As an adult he had veered even further away from his sire's expectations, choosing his independence over the good of the family. As much as he hated to admit it, Draco had a trace of Gryffindor in him and Lucius had not been able to eradicate it.

Scorpius was different. The child had immense potential. A serious, young man- always considering his situation before making subtle moves to further his interests. Even at this tender age, Scorpius displayed a natural ability for delicate persuasion, all the while projecting an air of guileless innocence. It was positively Machiavellian. Even his grandmother was fooled. But not Lucius. Lucius knew promise when he saw it, and Scorpius would make the perfect ally in his plans to get rid of Potter. All he had to do was get the boy on his side and the rest would fall into place…  
>At the moment, his future conspirator was fidgeting urgently in Narcissa's grasp; valiantly trying to escape her vice-like feminine embrace.<p>

"Nana, _no!_" Scorpius huffed, trying to squirm away.

Lucius' approval went up a notch. Malfoys do _not_ snuggle. "That's enough Cissa," he said, hastening to rescue the boy from her attentions. "I'd like a word with my grandson now if you don't mind."

It took a bit of manhandling but Narcissa eventually surrendered her grandchild. Scorpius huffed in apparent relief and regarded Lucius expectantly, giving him a rare moment of complete attention. Lucius smirked and lifted the child in his lap, making sure to maintain eye contact at all times.

"Now Scorpius," he began smoothly. "It is time that you learnt the true meaning of being a Malfoy."

Narcissa raised an elegant eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Lucius ignored her, glancing discreetly at the kitchen. Potter and Draco were still busy with the dishes. Perfect. He would have ample time for his little…chat with Scorpius.

"The Malfoy name is an old one, Scorpius," he continued. "A great name with a greater legacy. We pride ourselves on this legacy, on our roots and where we come from. And where is it that we have come from, Scorpius?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Dunno, Gampy."

"I'll tell you, child. We come from the very origin of magic itself. We were and are among the first of the wizards. The pioneers, if you will of all magical kind."

"Kay."

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Lucius. He's two years old. You can't seriously expect him to understand that bilge."

"Hush, Cissa. My grandson understands me perfectly. He's a Malfoy. Now as I was saying Scorpius, as one of the oldest and purest bloodlines of ancient wizardry, we have certain…responsibilities towards our forbearers. The responsibility to uphold the Malfoy name, carry on the family legacy and above all, remain pure."

"Lucius, if you're doing what I think you're doing…"

"And that," Lucius firmly talked over her. "…is where you come in, grandson."

"Kay."

"You see, your father has regrettably forgotten his duties to the family name in favour of this _dalliance_ with Potter."

"Lucius!"

Narcissa's severe tone notwithstanding, Scorpius snapped to attention as well, blinking rapidly at his grandsire.

"Arry?" he questioned brightly.

"Exactly," Lucius smirked triumphantly. "As you may have noticed Scorpius, Harry is not like us. He does not come from our roots and he does not understand the true worth of magical heritage. It is not necessarily his fault. However, the fact remains that Harry Potter is not…shall we say, suitable as the spouse of a Malfoy."

"Lucius, that is entirely…"

"Oh do hush, Cissa. I am merely telling the boy things he should know. Hardly any wrong in that, is there? So Scorpius, for the good of your father and more importantly the family name…"

"Lucius, I swear to Merlin…"

"…it is essential that you understand that all hope now lies with you- the very last of my line. You must convince your father to come to his senses and sever all…ties with Potter. I understand that this might prove difficult at first. But you must persevere. For it is for the good of the family, grandson. The good of the Malfoy name."

Scorpius considered that fine speech carefully. Lucius could practically hear the little wheels turning in his head. "Arry go bye bye?" he asked finally, looking up at Lucius.

Lucius nearly chortled with triumph. "Indeed, grandson. Harry go bye bye indeed."

Narcissa glared at her husband, eyes flashing. "Lucius Malfoy," she hissed. "Are you really trying to use your only grandson to drive a wedge between Draco and his boyfriend? Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I married you at all!"

She turned to Scorpius, eyes softening immediately. "Don't listen to Grandfather, darling. He's just a bitter old man grasping at straws. You just…"

"Now now, Cissa," Lucius smirked. "Don't influence the child. Let him make his own decisions." He turned to Scorpius and smiled, patting his back gently. "So grandson, I think we understand each other now. Do I have your support in this little mission?"

Scorpius stared up at him, eyes drawn in a thoughtful frown. Considering his first move in the Great Plan, no doubt. Lucius was so very proud of…

"No."

Lucius froze. _Surely _he had heard wrong. "What did you say? Scorpius, have I not made myself clear? You simply must…"

Scorpius lifted his little chin and glared. "No, Gampy!" he repeated firmly, slipping off Lucius' lap at once.

The Malfoy patriarch bristled indignantly. Draco would have never _dared_ dismiss him like this. "Do not refute me, young man."

Scorpius responded with all the dignity and forbearance a two year old can be expected to muster. He scowled, blew a raspberry at his grandfather and took off like a snitch with a seeker on its tail.

Lucius could only gape as the boy bolted to the kitchen, pattering over to Potter at once and tugging urgently at his robes. Potter smiled warmly and lifted him up at once, pressing an affectionate kiss to his temple and murmuring fondly. Scorpius threw his arms around Potter's neck in a possessive embrace and settled on his shoulder, taking a moment to cast Lucius a dirty look over his back.

Lucius scowled and slumped back on the sofa with a huff, trying to ignore his wife's muffled laughter. "Well, that could have gone better," he sighed. Clearly, he was defeated. All hope was lost.

Narcissa was still laughing as she reached over and patted his hand. "No one can say you didn't try, darling. Oh Merlin, did you try."

She turned away from her sulking husband. A gentle still smile traced her lips as she regarded Harry Potter; holding her grandson as if he were the most precious thing in the world. His free hand was linked with Draco's and his eyes spoke of nothing but the deepest of affection for both of them. Narcissa raised her wine glass in a silent toast.

"For the good of the family," she echoed softly.

And it was.


	85. My Kid

**Part four of a continuing arc. Follows The French Fry Thief, Malfoy Management and For the Good of the Family (see 3 previous chapter) Part 4 for your reading pleasure :D**

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><p>Harry grinned fondly at the little blond head in his lap. "Seriously, what is it with you always eating my food?"<p>

Scorpius looked up and obliged him with a blink before ignoring him completely and diving in to his fries again. His own plate had been abandoned the second Harry's meal had shown up and apparently, this was a thing now. Across the table, Hermione and Ron watched the scene with mild amusement.

"I suppose we can just bypass all the _so are you and Malfoy serious_ questions," Hermione smiled. Harry grinned in reply, forking up a chip that had somehow escaped Scorpius' vigilant eye.

"We are," he affirmed anyway. It was about time his friends learnt the full extent of his relationship with Draco and Harry had no qualms with letting them know just how committed he was to his boyfriend. Today had seemed the perfect day for this conversation. Draco had been called down to St. Mungos' research facility to consult on some new and improved Spattergroit Cure. He usually worked from home but Mungos had insisted on his presence today and Harry had been more than happy to take a day off to babysit.

So here he was, in a small café in Diagon Alley introducing Scorpius to his best friends over lunch. It had gone exceptionally well. Hermione's maternal instincts had taken over in about two seconds and she had spent the remainder of lunch cooing over the perplexed toddler. Ron had been a tad more resistant, but eventually even he had progressed from 'but he's so…blond' to 'oh alright, so he's a cute little tyke.'

Not bad for twenty minutes, Harry thought smugly. But then again, no one could resist his little angel for too long. Having efficiently demolished Harry's food, Scorpius was now leaning forward in his lap- his chubby fingers grappling eagerly for Ron's plate. The ginger sighed and pushed it over obligingly. "Where is he putting it all?" he wondered aloud. Harry chuckled. Ron willingly sharing his food was as good as a guaranteed stamp of approval. Yes, this was working out just fine. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed- chatting with his friends, one arm securely wrapped around his little blond.

It was just pure chance that he heard the muttering.

"…recognize a Malfoy from a mile away."

Harry stiffened, turning around as discreetly as he could. He recognized the indolent figure of Zacharias Smith sprawled at the table behind him. Smith ran a hand through his sandy brown hair and smirked, carrying out his conversation with a harried waitress.

Harry turned back to his own table, straining to listen over Hermione's conversation.

"So naturally, I told the Minister…"

"Hermione," Harry whispered, shushing her urgently.

"What…"

"Hush a minute. Just listen."

She subsided at once and Harry listened carefully as Smith's tone carried over clearly now.

"Look, all I'm saying is that when I visit your establishment, I expect certain standards. If I wanted to eat in the company of Death Eaters and their _spawn_, I'd go to Knockturn Alley, wouldn't I?"

Harry's fists clenched and his protective hold on Scorpius tightened.

"Sir, you are talking about a child," the waitress replied, her tone tight and completely devoid of patience. She cast a worried glance over at their table, catching Harry's eye for a second.

Smith shrugged, smarmy smirk still firmly in place. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, my dear. If you expect me to believe that _anything_ directly descending from Lucius and Draco Malfoy isn't rotten to the core, I'd urge you to read up a bit more on recent events. You know, that _war_ we just had?"

Harry was grinding his teeth so loudly, it was a miracle he could still hear the conversation. "Sir, I don't know what you're asking me to do here," the girl gritted. "If you're suggesting that I go up there and evict a _baby_ from our premises…"

"I'm not asking for that at all," Smith drawled. "I'm simply saying that I've been forced to spend my afternoon in…unsavoury company. A future criminal, most likely. It's only fair that you don't charge me for my meal. That's reasonable, don't you think?"

The girl stomped off, muttering something about calling her manager and Harry turned back to his friends. His fists were clenched and he was sure his nails were drawing blood. Hermione and Ron sat stock still, clearly shocked into silence. In his lap, Scorpius blithely continued pawing through his fries, oblivious to recent happenings. Harry's hands wrapped around him protectively, wanting nothing more than to keep him safe from this god awful world…

"What a _monster_," Hermione hissed. "How dare he say such…" She trailed off and reached over, stroking the child's cheek. Her hands were trembling and her brown eyes sparked with righteous fury.

"There's one in every crowd," Ron spat, looking thoroughly disgusted. Harry wasn't listening. He was too busy going over ways to make Smith _pay_ for daring to…

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Fine," Harry gritted. He wasn't fine. He wasn't fine at all.

Hermione nodded uneasily. "Let's just go. I don't want to spend another second here."

Harry took a deep breath, coming to a decision. "Actually," he replied in a deceptively calm tone. "Why don't you go ahead and take Scorpius to Fortescue's for some ice cream? I'll catch up in a minute."

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. "Harry, _don't_…"

"Let him go, Mione." Surprisingly, this was from Ron. He was regarding the back of Smith's head with a look of pure loathing. "If someone talked like that about my kid, I'd go after him too."

Something surged inside Harry. He had thought of Scorpius as his kid for a long time now, but to hear it from Ron…it just made the whole thing real. Scorpius _was_ his and no one was going to talk about him that way. Not while Harry was around.

Schooling his expression, he cupped the child's cheek, gently tilting his face up. "Hey baby," he murmured softly. "What say we go get some ice cream?"

Innocent, grey eyes blinked back at him, nearly breaking his heart. He would do _anything_ to protect this child. "Kay," Scorpius agreed obligingly.

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Go on then. Ron and Mione will take you. Harry will catch up, okay?"

"Come on, sweetie," Hermione broke in, sensing a cue. She reached over to help Scorpius off Harry's lap. "Let's go get you some ice cream."

"Kay, lady."

Tiny fingers wrapped around Hermione's hand and she squeezed gently, her eyes meeting Harry's for a brief second. "Be careful," she warned.

"Come on, Mini Malfoy," Ron cut in cheerfully. "You're gonna love the Three Scoop Special."

"No."

Ron frowned, somewhat perplexed at the notion of a child refusing ice cream. "No?"

"Four," Scorpius clarified firmly, holding up four small fingers for emphasis.

Ron chuckled. "I could get used to this kid," he announced, ushering Hermione and Scorpius out of the café. He turned around and winked at Harry. "Give him hell," he said. And then they were gone.

Harry waited a good ten minutes before signalling the waitress. She was a young girl, possibly fresh out of Hogwarts. She glanced at him warily and Harry gave her a reassuring smile. "This should cover the bill," he said, tossing some galleons on the table.

She shook her head. "It's on the house, Mr Potter," she replied, sending a dirty look in Smith's general direction. "It's the least we can do to… apologise for…"

"That's very kind," Harry cut in. "Give yourself a nice tip anyway. And speaking of apologies, I'd like to offer one in advance."

She raised an eyebrow. "For…"

Harry's answering smile could have frozen a basilisk. "For what I'm about to do to your establishment," he replied.

The girl's eyes widened for a second, and then she offered a sly grin of her own. "We'll send you a bill for damages, sir."

_Definitely Slytherin_, Harry thought with mild amusement. "I look forward to it," he smirked, walking away from her. He approached Smith's table with quick strides, pulling a chair back and sitting across from him. The sight of the bastard's wide eyes and rapidly paling countenance sent a vicious thrill through Harry. "Afternoon, Smith," he intoned coldly.

"P-potter? What are you..."

"I just want a quick word. Nothing to worry about." Smith gulped and scrabbled back in his chair, looking decidedly worried. Harry smirked and cracked his knuckles. "Now," he drawled. "What was it you were saying about my kid?" 

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><p>When Draco returned home later that day, it was to the sight of Harry trying to wipe a squirming Scorpius clean with a napkin.<p>

"Hold still, Blondie," he admonished. "This is what you get for swiping Ron's ice cream."

Draco chuckled as he sauntered in. "That's my boy."

Harry grinned and pulled him in for a kiss. "Missed you," he grinned, brushing his lips against Draco's. "How was work?"

"Boring," Draco sighed, leaning into him. "Did you two have a nice day?"

Harry smiled back. "Just lunch in the Alley. Nothing exciting."

"Really?" Draco drawled, his eyes flicking down to Harry's hand. "And…when exactly during this uneventful day did you find the time to bruise your knuckles?" He didn't miss the way Harry flushed slightly and his gaze flickered.

"I got caught in a doorway," he hedged.

"Clumsy," Draco replied, utterly unconvinced. He raised an eyebrow at his son. "Scorpius, would you like to verify that?"

"Bam!" Scorpius replied, demonstrating a rather impressive left hook. Harry cringed. In hindsight, he probably should have been less enthusiastic in his retelling of the Smith Incident.

"Mm," Draco replied noncommittally. "Sounds like you showed that door who's boss, Harry."

Harry mumbled and tugged awkwardly at his collar, looking with avid interest at the toaster. Draco chuckled and sidled over to him, hooking his arms around Harry's shoulders. "Did you forget I was at St. Mungos all day?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "Imagine my surprise when Zacharias Smith hobbled into the Critical Injuries Ward looking like death and mumbling about Potter finally going round the twist_._"

Harry winced. He _had_ forgotten. "Draco, he…"

"Oh hush," Draco whispered, pulling him in for another kiss. His lips slipped over Harry's and his hands wound into his messy hair. Harry sighed and relaxed, letting Draco sooth the tension from his frame. He deepened the kiss by instinct, tracing his hands down Draco's lean, toned body and…

**"Bam!"** Scorpius piped up again, announcing his presence rather effectively.

Draco groaned in frustration, backing away reluctantly. "Smith had it coming, did he?" he asked.

Harry nodded stiffly. "Definitely," he announced, reaching for Scorpius almost instinctively. The child went willingly, hooking his arms around Harry's neck and nuzzling into his shoulder with a contented chuff. Harry bundled him in his arms, gently kissing his forehead.

Draco observed the two of them silently, before yielding with a slow nod. "I'll take your word for it," he said softly. His apprehensions drifted away as he watched Harry handle his son. No, he didn't have to worry. Harry would take care of Scorpius.

And Harry would take care of him too.

After all, they were a family.


	86. Quidditch Quarrels

**Part...5 is it? of the Scorpius arc, following the previous chapters (starting from The French Fry Thief). I'm just churning these out now. Enjoy, lovelies :)**

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><p>The argument had commenced at Scorpius' third birthday party. Everything had been fine at first. The cake and ice cream had been thoroughly demolished by ankle biters of all shapes and sizes, the party games had been chaotic but fun and the adults- even Harry and Lucius- had managed to have a nice, civil afternoon.<p>

And then someone suggested that it was time to open the presents and the world went to hell.

"He's going to be a _Seeker!_" Harry spat, wielding the toy broomstick Ron had given Scorpius aloft like a weapon.

Lucius sneered and his lip curled threateningly. Draco sighed and exchanged a weary look with his mother. Narcissa smiled in commiseration and patted his hand. Their respective spouses had been arguing ever since that dratted broomstick had come into their lives- all of two hours now. The guests had left and the party had long since come to an end, but Harry and Lucius were still having at it like two crups with a bone. The remaining Malfoys- who had yet to descend into a second childhood - watched them with a blend of amusement and annoyance, sipping wine and helping Scorpius sort through the rest of the stash.

"My grandson is going to be a Beater and there are no two ways about it, Potter!" Lucius spat, glaring the younger man down.

"No son of mine is going to be a Beater," Harry argued belligerently.

"_Your_ son?"

"Yes," Harry gritted, leaning in aggressively. "_My_ son!"

Lucius abandoned his scathing response to that at a series of warning looks from his wife and son. Instead he decided to revert to his original point. "_My_ grandson will be a Beater and that is final! It is only fitting that he carries on in my footsteps since Draco didn't."

He paused to shoot his son a scowl and Draco smirked, raising a wine glass in a mock toast.

Harry raised a discriminating eyebrow and grinned. "You were a Beater?" he snickered. "Well, colour _me_ unsurprised."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Lucius demanded.

"Oh nothing," Harry smirked. "You just seem the… _type_ to go around bludgeoning people to death with a clubbed weapon."

"Would you like a demonstration, Potter?"

"Bring it on, _Gampy_."

"No one is bringing anything on," Narcissa broke in firmly, gliding over to the two men and stepping between them, effectively stopping them from coming to blows. "Really, the two of you are impossible. Perhaps we should be celebrating _your_ third birthdays."

"He started it," Lucius muttered.

Harry sneered in response, only adopting a sheepish, apologetic expression when Narcissa gave him a stern look. "If you two are quite finished," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt that they _were_ in fact finished. "Perhaps we could just let Scorpius open up the rest of his presents?"

"Very well," Lucius muttered.

"Fine," Harry replied, slumping down on the sofa.

Narcissa nodded and returned to her spot on the couch, rolling her eyes at the belligerent grumblings of _'Seeker!'_ and _'Beater!'_ that started as soon as her back was turned. Draco shot her an amused grin as he reached out for Scorpius and pulled him on to his lap.

"Well, my prince. We seem to have reached an impasse. How about you settle this once and for all, hm?"

"Kay, Fadder."

Draco summoned the broom, catching it as it whizzed over to him and handing it to Scorpius. The little blond wrapped small hands around the handle, observing it with a quizzical frown.

"Grip the handle with both your hands, Blondie," Harry advised. "You're going to need to keep your balance when you're _seeking_ for the Snitch," he added, scowling at Lucius.

"On the contrary, grandson," Lucius snapped back. "Try a one hand grip instead. You're going to need the other one to _hold the bat!_"

"Well, son?" Draco prompted. Scorpius blinked at him, taking his time to look around at the assembled grown-ups. He took another look at the broom and Harry and Lucius leaned forward eagerly, awaiting the verdict.

Scorpius chucked the broom away with a disgusted _blech!_ It clattered to the floor and Narcissa had to physically hold back a giggle as the men gaped, mercifully stunned into silence.

"What?!" Harry finally squawked.

"But child…" Lucius began.

The toddler clambered off a snickering Draco's lap and pattered over to his presents again. He pawed around a bit before triumphantly emerging with his selection.

"Duckie!" he announced happily, showing Draco the book on farm animals that Hermione had given him. Draco had to take an entire minute to compose himself before he could nod interestedly at the picture of the duckling Scorpius was so enamoured of. "Very good, son," he offered. "An excellent choice."

"That's my clever boy," Narcissa said warmly, stroking his hair as he padded off to his room- book firmly tucked under his arm. She raised an eyebrow at the dismayed expressions around her. Harry ran a flustered hand through his hair and Lucius scowled at the broomstick as if it had failed him somehow. "Well, I suppose that settles that," she announced primly.

Harry looked over at Draco with a stricken expression. "We're raising a nerd," he announced in a hollow voice.

"Oh, the horror," Draco responded seriously, obviously fighting for a straight face.

Lucius sighed in defeat and shrugged. "Well, at least Slytherin will rack up some points when he aces his OWLs."

Harry bristled and whirled around. "I'm sorry, Lucius," he bit out. "I could have sworn you said Slytherin."

Lucius tensed, scowling challengingly at the younger man. "Your hearing is intact, Potter."

"Scorpius will be in Gryffindor and you know it!"

"No Malfoy will ever set foot in the Gryffindor Tower while I'm still breathing, Potter!"

"Oh, we can take care of _that_ little problem."

"Why you arrogant little…he's going to Slytherin!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin!"

"Call me crazy," Draco commented dryly. "But considering that he picked a _book_ as his favourite present, isn't it far more likely that he'll be in Ravenclaw?"

Harry and Lucius whirled around to face him, sporting twin looks of shock and horror at the prospect. "No!" they spat in unison.

"Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin!"

Draco shrugged and settled back as they started off again. "Well, at least they agree on something," he said to his mother.

"Indeed darling," Narcissa sighed. "More wine?"


	87. Who?

**Ficlet for the Welcome Back to Hogwarts Challenge on LJ:**

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><p>Ginny pouted sulkily as she saw Harry and Malfoy walk past her <em>again<em>, holding hands. She supposed she could attempt to be happy for Harry- especially now that the war was over and things were finally going back to normal-but did they have to be everywhere? Surely, there were rules about this sort of thing? If there weren't, there _should_ be Ginny decided viciously.

Harry reached out for Malfoy's hand, bringing his wrist to his lips for a gentle kiss. Malfoy smiled and leaned into him. Ginny scowled and looked away.

The sun shone down on her and the birds chirped but as far as one young redhead was concerned, it may as well be a dark, dreary day. With nothing to look forward to, no one to share it with…Malfoy had Harry, Harry had Malfoy and what did she have?

Nada.

Bloody typical is what the whole thing is…

If she hadn't been so occupied with her pouting, perhaps she would have heard the tell tale sound of purposeful footsteps marching over to her. It wasn't until a dark shadow fell over her that Ginny frowned and looked up.

That was as far as she got, before strong hands gripped her slim shoulders and hauled her up. Ginny squeaked as she was pushed against a strong, toned chest. She would have protested if all the breath hadn't been knocked unceremoniously out of her. As it happened, her attacker was in no mood to be told off anyway. One of those strong hands retreated from her shoulder and planted themselves in her hair, angling her head back. Ginny opened her mouth to launch into a tirade that would make her mother blink but the next second smooth, firm, _perfect_ lips were on hers. It was a bruising, crushing kiss- pent up with emotion and frustration- and Ginny closed her eyes and parted her lips by instinct. Her nerves were on fire and she was vaguely aware that a few minutes ago, she had been sulking about something, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was. Oh well, it certainly couldn't be more important than this…

When Blaise Zabini finally broke away, his eyes were dark and smouldering, his impeccable hair was tousled and he was regarding her with an expression closely resembling rage. Ginny couldn't imagine what his problem was, she felt _perfectly_ fine.

"Stupid girl," he practically spat.

"What?" Ginny sputtered indignantly. Just because he was a fantastic kisser, didn't mean he got to call her names!

"Two months I've been watching you mooning after him," Blaise spat. "How thick are you? How perfectly oblivious do you have to be to not see that I would do_anything _to have you look at me like that? Well, I have had it! I am not going to stand around in the background anymore just because you're too clueless to see what's right in front of you! Stupid, _stupid_ girl! You will stop this incessant staring at Potter and Draco- _especially_ Potter- or I will lose my mind! Do you understand?"

He kissed her again and this time, she would have ended up on the ground if he hadn't hooked an arm around her to keep her up. Ginny purred like a contented kitten. This was nice…

When he broke away, she was breathless again. Blaise stared down at her, his handsome face guarded but his mouth pressed in a line of determination. "So have I made myself clear?" he demanded. "Will you stop staring at bloody Potter?"

Ginny blinked dazedly. "Who?"

Blaise's lips stretched in a smug, somewhat endearing smile and she leaned in for another kiss. Neither noticed the two boys right behind them, exchanging conspiring smiles.


	88. Hassles in Hogsmeade

H**ello, lovely readers- sorry I've been AWOL for a bit. There was this brilliant 2 week thing on LJ called the Welcome Back to Hogwarts Challenge. Suffice it to say, I got distracted by the shiny. Here's a little oneshot to make up for it ^_^**

**Also, about the Scorpius arc- I'm thinking of reposting it as a separate story. Nobody panic, I still lubs it a lot. But it's getting really confusing in the A Day in the Life series, and I really want to post other oneshots :P So, that's cool right? A separate story for the Scorpius! Arc. It's going to be called Two and a Half Men (cue sitcom ripoff) because I am being particularly uncreative these days.**

**And once again, sorry for the wait. I always come back, though *hearts***

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><p>Harry scowled as he gulped down his butterbeer. Hogsmeade visits were usually fun and The Three Broomsticks had no dearth of warmth or cheer, but as far as Harry was concerned everything <em>sucked. <em>Because right there- not ten feet from him- some wanker was sitting at a table tucked away in the corner, and he had his arm around Draco.

Obviously, his irritation was perfectly rational. He was after all, friendly with Draco these days. All the Eighth Years were sharing a common room and considering that they lived together, it only made sense to get along. Besides Draco was passing nice when he wanted to be. Harry had been pleasantly surprised by how much time they ended up spending together.

They talked and studied together sometimes and while Draco still rolled his eyes at him, it was usually accompanied by a fond head shake and an immediate demand for Harry's latest Charms notes so he could undo whatever damage Harry had most recently inflicted on them. All in all, Draco wasn't a bad bloke. Unfortunately, he was pretty - _too _pretty, actually- and ridiculously oblivious of the fact that he was too pretty. Therefore he was liable to get himself into all sorts of trouble. As his friend, it was _obviously_ Harry's job to look out for him and protect him from the general male population.

Therefore, he found it perfectly reasonable to be miffed by this…this _stranger_ who was sitting unnecessarily close to his blond- _friend_, he meant friend, of course- and whispering in his ear.

Harry scowled. Why did he have to whisper? Was he divulging some sort of national secret? What could he possibly be saying to Draco that the rest of the bar was not allowed to hear? Utterly unnecessary; not to mention _rude_. Of course all the attention was annoying Draco. The polite smile and interested nodding meant nothing- Harry knew Draco well enough to understand he wished to be rescued from this man's unwelcome attention.

Things went one step too far when the man lifted his hand and brushed Draco's cheek lightly. Oh, that was it! Harry scowled and marched over, a threatening glare darkening his gaze. Draco's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't seem too unhappy about the sudden intrusion. Of course not. He was clearly relieved.

"Harry," he smiled. "What are you doing here? I…"

Harry's eyes narrowed as his gaze fixed on the arm wrapped around Draco's shoulders. The man swallowed and detached himself at once. Harry smirked in satisfaction as he reverted to Draco. "I was hoping you'd join me for a bit. I need some help with my homework."

Draco grinned at him. "Don't you always?" he teased. "I suppose we could catch up. I'll just finish my drink and…"

"I'll buy you a new one," Harry cut in, his gaze zeroing in on The Intruder. The man gulped audibly. He must have discovered a previously unknown sense of self preservation, because he pushed his chair back and got up rather abruptly. "Actually Draco," he blurted, gathering up his coat and edging for the door. "I just remembered an important appointment. Why don't you go on with your boyfriend? It was nice meeting you. Bye now!"

"Boyfriend?" Draco echoed incredulously. "He's not my…"

But the man was already gone, leaving nothing but a trail of dust in his wake. Draco frowned. "That was odd."

"Very," Harry replied smugly, slipping into the vacant chair.

Draco shook his head and scoffed. "_Boyfriend_. Really, the ideas some people get. Of all the outlandish notions…can you imagine?"

"Ridiculous," Harry agreed, taking a swig of his butter beer again. "So about those notes…"

"Of course," Draco grinned, taking his books out from a bag. "Is it Chapter 23? It's always Chapter 23 with you…"

From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted yet another bloke eyeing his blon- his _friend_, damn it- with interest. He glared and shifted his chair over to Draco, settling beside him and wrapping a protective arm around his slim shoulders. Draco stiffened for a second, his breath catching slightly as he tensed. Grey eyes blinked at Harry in apparent confusion. Harry offered a reassuring smile and a slight shrug, but his grip tightened. Draco flushed in response, lowering his gaze and busying himself with the book again.

"So Chapter 23," he murmured, settling against Harry's shoulder. Harry nodded distractedly, one eye still on the potential intruder. The man took one look at him and gave in, slinking away with a scowl.

Harry grinned triumphantly and busied himself with listening to Draco. And if his arm remained firmly wrapped around the blond and the weight of his head on his chest made a strange warmth spread through Harry's heart, that was perfectly normal too. After all, Draco needed to be looked after and Harry obviously just wanted to protect his friend from sleazy strangers. He shook his head and scoffed inwardly.

Boyfriend, indeed…


	89. The (Naughty) Little Mermaid

**Written for the Welcome Back to Hogwarts Challenge on LJ. The prompt was to write an H/D fic from a non H/D Point of View.**

**Warnings for mature-ish content **

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><p>It was just another ordinary day in Hogwarts. Marina pouted as she tossed her long, blonde hair back and settled on her rock for a good sulk. Her silvery tail flicked the water petulantly, sending drops of water flying about. She was so <em>bored<em>. It was bad enough being a painting, stuck in a frame all day with precious little to do. But did they have to hang her up in the Prefects Bathroom? She didn't even have another painting to talk to. Not that she wanted to socialise with _this_motley crowd. That snooty sea-horse mural on the third floor could go swim in a pond for all she cared. Telling her she looked like a _fish out of the water_- the nerve!

However, that didn't solve her current predicament. She was still excruciatingly bored. The little mermaid sighed and flicked a pebble with her tail, watching it slip into the depths of the painted ocean. The Bathroom remained bereft of any activity. She didn't even have something nice to look at; not since that Diggory fellow a few years ago…

Mid sulk however, something changed. Marina looked up with mild interest as the door slid open. Ooh! She eyed the blond with interest. Now here was something to look at. He was a tall boy, lithe with sharp features. His grey eyes reminded her of stormy nights over the sea, and his hair was _almost_ as perfect as hers.

The blond slipped his robe off and she flipped her tail in anticipation. The slight splashing alerted him and he turned to her. Marina smiled and waved at him; the blond responded with a sexy smirk that made her shiver.

"Well, if you aren't the prettiest painting I've ever seen," he drawled, sauntering over to her.

Marina blushed, drawing a faint smile from the blond. "The naughtiest, too," he added with a raised eyebrow. "Surely you don't plan to stick around and watch me undress?"

Marina lifted her chin and gave him a defiant look, clearly conveying that she intended to do just that. The blond chuckled. "As you wish," he shrugged. "You're not going to stop me."

As if she would ever dream of such a thing. Marina craned her neck, eager to get a better look. The tie came off, and so did the shirt. His back was turned, and she noticed that it was lean and lightly muscled. It made her want to reach out and run her hands all over him. Stupid two dimensional painting…oh well, at least she could watch.

She had to restrain herself from doing a flip when the trousers were shucked off and deposited in a corner. He was wearing nothing but his pants now. Marina tried to be open minded but she had never liked the concept of 'legs'. They just seemed silly. However, _his_ were as gorgeous as the rest of him and she couldn't help approving. Now if only he would cooperate and take off those silly pants, so she could see…

"Kinky little flounder," he tutted amusedly. "Enjoying the show?"

Marina giggled and nodded, enjoying the way his eyes lit up with mirth. "Well then," he drawled, pulling idly at his pants and slipping them down, ever so slowly. "You're going to _love_ this."

Marina gasped in sheer delight.

* * *

><p>A few days later, she was sunning herself on her rock when the door opened again. Marina looked up, half expecting the gorgeous blond boy.<p>

No, it wasn't him.

Marina cocked her head curiously.

The dark haired boy looked around the bathroom, clearly taken aback by the sheer size of it. The mermaid sniffed in disdain. Her blond was _accustomed_ to luxury. _He_ wouldn't gawk at a bathroom. Perhaps, this boy needed to associate with a better crowd. Then he wouldn't embarrass himself by looking so wonder-struck at some silly…

Suddenly, his green eyes turned on her. Marina lost her train of thought as she stared into those gorgeous, emerald depths. Oh, but they were perfect! The deep green of the ocean on a calm day. And such dark, long lashes. And his smile was so open and guileless…all thoughts of the blond were promptly driven from Marina's mind. He wasn't here, after all. She could look, couldn't she?

"Oh hello," he said, smiling at her. "I didn't realize someone was here."

He looked a bit awkward and Marina smiled to put him at ease. She flipped her tail in the water and splashed to show she meant no harm. His smile widened and he came closer. "You're a mermaid," he said.

Well, obviously. She certainly wasn't a hydra.

"I had a book on Mythical Creatures when I was younger. Before I came here," he explained. "It had pictures of mermaids. But you're prettier than all of them put together."

Marina flushed and splashed at him playfully. He was so nice! And that wonder-struck look was perfectly acceptable now, so long as it was trained on _her_. Eager to indulge him, she dove into the water and swam about, showing off her silvery scales and her exceptional swim techniques. He looked visibly impressed; she couldn't help preening a bit.

"No one comes here much," he commented. "You must get lonely all by yourself."

Marina sighed and nodded. It was kind of him to notice.

He nodded sympathetically. "I get lonely too, sometimes. I'm not really supposed to be here. I'm not a Prefect or anything. But I can come down and see you sometime if you like?"

Just for that, she executed a graceful flip, making him smile again. Suddenly, he started shuffling awkwardly. Marina frowned, wondering what the matter was.

"I don't mean to be rude. But I do need to take a bath and well, could you maybe…"

She almost giggled. Oh, he was shy! She was so accustomed to the blond boy's brazen confidence. This boy's awkwardness was almost adorable in contrast. Not that he had any reason to be.

"Please?" he implored sweetly.

Oh, for the love of Neptune...very well, she would humour the nice, handsome boy. Marina rolled her eyes before pressing a hand up against them. His answering chuckle made her smile. He had a nice laugh…

"Thank you. Now no peeking, okay?"

Marina huffed and nodded, making sure to cross the fingers of her free hand behind her back. As soon as she heard the tell tale rustle of robes being taken off, she stole a look through her fingers. She bit her lip to hide an appreciative grin. Now, _that_ was a nice…

"Hey! You promised not to peek!"

Marina burst into giggles. 

* * *

><p>The door of the bathroom slid open. Marina frowned as the magic alerted her to a visitor. At this time of night? Intrigued, the mermaid poked her head out of the water. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the intruders.<p>

Her boys! They were here- the blond one _and_ the nice one. Together! That had certainly never happened before. And…and were they…

Oh, _my_.

"Want you," the blond growled as he attacked the other's throat, pausing every now and then to suckle at the skin and raise a mark. His hands worked busily at divesting the other boy's clothing. He yanked at the boy's tie, ripping it off and tossing it to the ground.

Marina watched, utterly delighted but somewhat concerned. Surely, he was being too rough with the nice boy? Well, she would have something to say about _that_ if he hurt…

A low, throaty moan interrupted her protective musings. The dark haired boy responded by slipping the blond's shirt off, revealing his toned back. "Need you so much," he whispered back, his voice low and urgent. He bit down on the blond's shoulder, eliciting another growl from him.

Well _clearly,_ everyone was happy. Marina settled down with a grin, eager to catch every second of the show.

Shirts tore and trousers were yanked off roughly. Hands gripped hips and teeth and tongues clashed in a passionate frenzy. Marina watched in awe. They looked so beautiful together. Pale and tan, smooth and toned, lean waists and broad shoulders…ooh, this was brilliant!

She didn't realize that she was leaning forward until she slipped off her rock. With a squeal and a splash, Marina toppled off and into the water. The noise alerted the boys who broke away and turned to her. Grey and green gazes narrowed in accusation and Marina squirmed guiltily.

Busted.

"Well well well," the blond drawled. "And what are _you_ doing up so late, little mermaid?"

Marina huffed. He was a fine one, telling her off. Considering what _he'd_ been doing two minutes ago…

The dark haired boy chuckled. "Apparently, _we're_ the ones being rude here." He tapped her frame in gentle admonishment, but his eyes were kind. "Hasn't anyone told you it's not nice to spy on people?"

Marina pouted sulkily, flipping her tail at them in a rude gesture.

The blond grinned and tapped her frame as well. "Move along now, little flounder," he ordered. "We need a little privacy. No peeking, okay?"

Marina nodded reluctantly, but the dark haired boy smirked. "Don't believe her," he advised. "She cheats."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "I don't really care if she watches," he smirked, his smouldering gaze turning to the other boy. "Do you?"

The other boy's gaze darkened, even as his cheeks coloured. "At this point, I don't give a damn," he growled, letting his appreciative green eyes roam his lover's frame. "So long as what happens in the Prefects Bathroom, stays there."

"Oh, I think she can keep a secret," the blond replied. "Can't you, minnow?"

As if she would share this with _anyone._ Marina grinned and splashed at him, watching approvingly as they turned away and slipped into the tub. Long limbs intertwined and slid over wet, smooth skin. Low, throaty moans filled the silence. Strong hands gripped at broad shoulders and twined into hair….

Marina settled down happily.

At the very least, she _certainly_ wasn't bored anymore.

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><p><strong>For anyone still wondering, the 'Scorpius' arc has it's own series now (Two and a Half Men). All posts to that arc will be made on a separate story, not here.<strong>

**Cheers!**


	90. Priceless

**Another one shot written for the Welcome Back to Hogwarts Challenge on LJ. Also, a birthday gift for kitty_fic on LJ. **

**Warnings: Sappy sappy sappy...**

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><p>Draco's birthday was- as per usual- a marvellous success. The arrangements were certainly not as lavish as they used to be. Ever since he had moved from the Manor to his small flat, Draco had learnt a little about the concept of 'limited space'. Nevertheless, all his friends were here and everyone was getting along well. Most importantly, Harry was here and that made this birthday all the more special in Draco's book.<p>

"Present time!" Pansy announced suddenly.

"Now?" Harry's eyebrows rose in slight surprise. "What about cake?"

"Blasphemy," Theo drawled. "We always open Draco's presents before cake."

"It's tradition," Pansy put in.

"There's a tradition?" Harry asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's just a silly thing they do," he explained. "Pay them no mind."

Blaise smirked. "Don't mock the birthday gods, young Draco. You _know_ how important this part is. By the way, I don't mean to brag or anything but I'm going up on the shelf this year."

"As if," Pansy scoffed. Theo raised a challenging brow while Harry stared, completely flummoxed.

"Okay, I'm lost."

Draco smiled and squeezed his hand. "When I was younger and we had my birthday celebration at the Manor, Mother used to put my favourite present up for display. It became a sort of competition with these tossers."

"Every year, we all try to get Draco the nicest present," Theo finished. "Best present goes up on the shelf." He gestured idly at the shelf right behind Harry. It was bare for now but all the Slytherins eyed it covetously. Harry shook his head in bemusement. Honestly, contests over presents? And he thought Gryffindors were competitive…

"Let's get this rolling," Blaise demanded. "The sooner we open _my_ present, the sooner we can put these poor souls out of their misery."

"Mine first!" Pansy snapped, shoving a box at Draco. She glared challengingly at the boys. "_Also_ a tradition, by the way."

"No one's arguing, Pans," Draco grinned, pecking her cheek affectionately. "Now, let's see what brilliant gift you got me this year."

Hence, the present unwrapping commenced. Harry's eyes widened as gift after extravagant gift was unwrapped. Pansy's cashmere sweater gave way to Adrian Pucey's dragon-hide gloves. Both fell flat against the emerald dress robes Millicent had picked up in Paris. But surely, even those paled in comparison to the Canons' autographed Quidditch set that Theo sprung for. Harry gulped. His own present was paltry in comparison. Surely, Draco wouldn't even want it. Why would he when he had all of this?

"Not bad," Blaise drawled, distracting him from his musings. "But I can do better." He fished around in his pocket and handed Draco an envelope.

"You got him parchment?" Pansy teased. "Well, there's _no_ way we're topping that."

"Open it," Blaise urged. Draco raised an eyebrow as he ripped the envelope open and pulled out two scraps of paper. Pansy frowned and leaned over to get a look. She promptly gasped. Theo took his own look and huffed.

"Cheater," he declared sullenly.

"Is it _my_ fault I own an island in the Pacific?" Blaise demanded smugly. "Surely I'm allowed to gift my best mate an all expense paid luxury trip to my _own_island? Oh quit sulking, you lot. Don't hate the player, hate the game and all that…"

Draco chuckled and gave the smug Slytherin a quick hug. "This is brilliant, Blaise. Thank you so much."

"Think nothing of it. But if you really want to thank me, you can put my _infinitely_ superior present in the place of honour it deserves."

Pansy wasn't going down without a fight. "Not so fast, Zabini! We still have one more present to go. We haven't opened Potter's yet."

Every eye in the room turned on Harry, who immediately flushed. "It's…it's not going up on the shelf," he managed. "I really didn't…"

"Rules are rules, Potter," Theo cut in firmly. "You brought a present; you open it in front of everyone."

"But…"

"He said it's not going up on the shelf!" Blaise protested. "What's the point?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "The point is that my boyfriend got me something for my birthday and I want to see it." He turned to Harry with a soft smile and squeezed his hand gently. "You know I'll love it," he whispered. "Please, Harry?"

"Oh come on, Potter. Be a sport. You don't see us whinging, do you?" Pansy chirped. "Even if Blaise is a dirty cheater," she grumbled under her breath.

Harry sighed in defeat. "Fine. But…don't expect too much, okay? It's really not that great."

"I'll be the judge of that," Draco replied firmly. Harry nodded and retrieved the makeshift box from behind the sofa. Draco smiled as he handled it, carefully prying it open to reveal Harry's gift. Harry suppressed a groan as everyone gaped at his silly, sappy gift in confused silence.

"It's a bush," Pansy finally announced. Her brow furrowed as she ran an inquisitive finger over the golden-green leaves.

"No," Theo corrected as he cocked his head, observing the present seriously. "It's a tree. A _small_ tree."

"Why would you give him a tree?" Pansy demanded.

"Ha!" Blaise crowed. "I still win. I've got trees on the island!"

"Blaise, hush," Draco said sternly. "Harry, I'm guessing there's a story behind this?"

"Sort of," Harry shrugged. "Do you…remember the day we went to the Manor to pick up your things?"

Draco's eyes clouded over. "That was right before the Ministry confiscated it for reparations," he said quietly. "I was miserable that day."  
>"I noticed," Harry replied, squeezing his hand. "A little while later you said you wanted to walk in the gardens one last time. You showed me something. Remember that?"<p>

"The old oak?" Draco smiled at the memory. "I could never forget that tree. I spent half my childhood in its branches."

"I remember that," Theo nodded. "You used to hide up there whenever Lucius saw your grades."

"We had the elves put a tree-house up there once," Blaise put in, frowning as he remembered. "It collapsed the next day."

Draco chuckled. "I loved that tree. It was _my_ tree, you know? Every time I felt like I just wanted to be alone, it was there." The smile faded and a pained look drifted into his grey eyes. "I suppose the Ministry chopped it down with everything else."

"Not really," Harry smiled, cupping his cheek and pushing the tree over gently. "Happy Birthday, Draco."

Draco's eyes widened and his head snapped around to look at the tree again. The others leaned forward, just as flummoxed.

"No," Pansy declared firmly. "It _can't_ be. You can't shrink a tree. Can you?"

"Well, I can't," Harry admitted. "But Neville can." He chuckled slightly. "It pays to know people in Herbology."

Draco was barely listening. His eyes were still wide and he reached out hesitantly to stroke the branches of the tiny tree. He looked absolutely awed. "My tree. I…I never thought I'd see it again," he whispered reverently. "But… _how_? They confiscated the Manor the very next day. I was…"

"I went back the same night with Neville. He wasn't very happy about being dragged out of bed. But you looked so sad and…I just thought this would give you something to remember the good times. After that, it was pretty much Neville. He shrank it down, replanted it and kept it at his greenhouse for six months. And well, here it is." Harry smiled ruefully and shrugged. "I know it's not much but…"

The rest of his words went unsaid as Draco pulled him forward with a fervent _Harry _and kissed him fiercely. Harry blinked in surprise before catching on and slipping an arm around Draco, holding him steady. His heart clenched at the slight tremble of Draco's lips under his own. His thumb swiped gently at Draco's jaw line, wiping away a single tear. If only he could give Draco all his memories back…but at least he could do something. And apparently, that was enough.

"Thank you," Draco whispered against his lips. "It's _brilliant. _I don't even know how to thank…"

"I love you," Harry cut in softly.

"Merlin's silk knickers!" Blaise exclaimed, throwing his arms up in defeat. "Seriously?! I was _this_ close!"

Harry smiled into Draco's mouth and the blond chuckled, breaking the kiss and wiping his eyes discreetly. "Sorry, Blaise," he smiled, patting his shoulder sympathetically.

"Better luck next year, darling," Pansy tittered at the sulking Italian, patting his head. Blaise pushed her hand away sulkily.

Theo shook his head in amusement and nodded at Harry, raising a toast in acknowledgement. "Well played, Potter. The shelf is yours."

Harry's smile widened as Draco lifted his tree up carefully. His eyes were soft and a quiet smile pulled at his lips as he placed it on the shelf. The little oak stood proud on its pedestal, its leaves fluttering gently in the breeze.

And if it still stood there on Draco's next birthday and the one after that _and _the one after that_, _nobody all, some gifts are too precious to have a price-tag attached. Some gifts go beyond all measure of value. Some gifts are priceless.


	91. Brash Bets

**Warnings: BDSM, bondage, initial dub-con, dom!Harry, sub!Draco...all that jazz. Please proceed with caution.**

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><p>A cool breeze drifted through the Quidditch Pitch, sending a shiver down Draco's spine. It was bracing, but certainly not enough to catch a chill yet. Besides, Draco had other things to worry about. The ground was hard and unforgiving where he knelt. The ropes tying his hands back were tight and unyielding and his shoulders ached from the strain. But that didn't really worry Draco either.<p>

However, the thought - the very _idea - _that someone might just walk outside and see him trussed up on the Quidditch Pitch, bare arse naked and waiting for his humiliation to begin was enough to send him reeling from panic.

Yes, if Draco wanted to worry, he would worry about _that_ bit.

He bit his lip, trying to fight the shuddering gasps that threatened to escape him. He had no one to blame but himself for this. If he hadn't agreed to that _stupid_bet…

"I was half afraid you wouldn't be here."

Draco jumped as a soft, husky voice brushed his ear. Potter's breath tickled the delicate skin, sending an altogether different shiver through him. "You're braver than I gave you credit for, Malfoy," he whispered.

Draco growled as Potter's utterance of his name brought the reality of the situation back to him. "Just get on with it, you bastard," he spat, flushing furiously and cursing himself all over again for letting Potter put him in this appalling situation.

Potter chuckled. "Such a convincing show of outrage," he crooned. "I actually believed you for a second."

If Draco's hands weren't tied firmly behind his back, he would have taken a swing at the git. "I _don't_ want this," he snarled.

Soft footsteps echoed as Potter came forward, kneeling down next to him. His green eyes glinted in the dim moonlight, his mouth twisted in the mockery of a kind smile. His hand- warm and calloused- traced Draco's cheek. Draco shivered under the seemingly innocent touch, closing his eyes on instinct. Potter's fingers drifted to his lips, pressing down softly on soft, full skin. Unable to suppress his reaction to the gentle attention, Draco groaned.

Potter chuckled. "No, not eager at all," he teased lightly. Draco's answering growl brought a grin to his lips. "Stop playing hard to get, Malfoy. It's fairly obvious you lost our little bet on purpose."

Draco's eyes widened. "I…I didn't," he stammered. He wondered if Potter could feel the frantic pulse hammering against his throat.

"Mm," the other replied noncommittally. "Have it your way. I still maintain that you usually give me a tougher fight for the snitch."

Draco's irritation surged again, and he resolutely told himself it was thanks to Potter was being a prat and not because he was hitting too close to home. He glared at his smirking rival, murder in his eyes. "Just get on with it," he gritted. "If anyone sees this, I'll never live it down."

"No one will see," Potter replied, his hand tightening possessively against Draco's nape. "I'm the only one who gets to see you like this and don't you forget it."

Draco's world spun at Potter's declaration. By the time he had a handle on his exceedingly unfortunate circumstances, Potter's arms were around him and his lips were tracing the skin of Draco's throat. The sensation was overwhelmingly pleasant and Draco tipped his head back, eager for more.

"So very willing," Potter smirked against his skin, his hands stroking their way down Draco's bare side.

"Am not," Draco protested, even as he parted his legs to give Potter something to work with. Potter chuckled with amusement and obliged, tracing the inside of his thigh this time. Draco whimpered as teasing fingers flitted over sensitive skin, expertly avoiding his cock. He was rock hard from a little groping- if it could even be called that- and vaguely, he knew he would never, ever forgive himself for this, but it just didn't seem as important right now.

"I should make you beg," Potter growled softly, his eyes darkening as Draco writhed under his dancing fingers. "You'd do it too. You'd get on your hands and knees and present your arse to me, begging and moaning and pleading for my cock buried deep inside you."

"No," Draco half sobbed, half whispered even as Potter traced a delicate line over his cock with the tip of his finger.

"Oh no?" Potter challenged, leaning closer. "Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?"

"Potter, no!" Draco whimpered, as his torment started again. Potter's tongue was everywhere and nowhere that he wanted it to be. It flit against his throat and laved his nipples and danced over his delicate hipbones. A firm hand wrapped around Draco's cock, stroking him oh so slowly. It was torture of the worst sort and he knew, he just _knew_ that Potter was going to take his pride and shatter it to pieces before he gave him what he needed. The trouble was he wasn't sure if he minded so much.

"Look at you. Absolutely gorgeous," Potter murmured softly, his hands drifting to Draco's arse now. Draco's squeak of alarm dissolved into a wanton moan as slick fingers traced his entrance teasingly. Oh _Merlin_, he was going to die of frustration! "Potter," he gasped. "Please. Don't make me…"

"Ask for it," Potter urged, licking soothingly at his trembling bottom lip. "I can give you everything you want, Draco. All you have to do is ask."

"No," Draco gasped, turning his face stubbornly. But he couldn't stop himself from trying to buck against Potter's leg. The cruel bastard chuckled and shifted slightly, moving just out of reach. "Beg me for it," he ordered again, his hand tightening on Draco's raging cock again. The shift of Potter's fingers, the teasing swipe at his slit was all it took.

"Please!" The wail that escaped his throat was almost animalistic and Draco didn't give a damn. It was too much. Pride be damned, Potter had won. And Draco would give him _anything_ if he would just…

"Please," he whimpered again. Potter swooped in and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. Draco's eyes fluttered as his insistent tongue invaded his mouth, claiming his mouth. When Potter finally saw fit to release him, he was panting and he could barely sit straight anymore. Potter held him up, his obsidian eyes burning Draco's skin with their gaze. "Please what?" he hissed predatorily, gripping his hips with punishing fingers.

"Anything!" Draco panted, bucking frantically against him. "Please, _please!_ Just…just anything…"

Potter growled and broke away from him. Draco almost wailed in despair at the loss of contact. The next second a firm hand was on his back, pushing him face down. He pressed his cheek into the cool grass and gasped as Potter's fingers stroked his exposed arse proprietarily. "I told you," he said, and Draco heard the grin in his voice. He didn't have it in him to snap anymore. Instead he pushed back into Potter's hands, moaning in gratification when strong fingers squeezed possessively.

"P-please. Please just…"

"Soon, pretty one. Very soon."

His soothing words did nothing to ease Draco and he whined and writhed until Potter lost patience and landed a smack on his bum. The skin burned under the sharp sting and Draco gasped, bucking instinctively. Potter chuckled and traced a lubricated finger against his entrance again. Draco moaned as the finger eased its way inside him, slowly and carefully. It was…_good_ but not enough.

"More," he whined, pushing demandingly against the invasion.

"Greedy little slut," Potter chuckled. "Very well, have it your way." Draco held his breath as he registered movement. The unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down and then Potter was behind him, hands gripping tightly at his hips and his thighs brushing Draco's. "Remember," he purred, aligning his hard length to Draco's eager hole. "You _begged_ for this."

And then with one smooth thrust, that glorious, hot, hard length was inside him and Draco screamed, his head falling back. The sounds of Potter's harsh breathing filled his ears and the feeling of his cock stretching him from the inside…

"You're mine now," Potter growled, pulling back and thrusting into him urgently. "Only I can give you this. Give you what you so obviously need. Just me. Isn't that right, slut?"

"Yes!" Draco gasped, pushing back as he desperately sought contact. His hands chafed against the ropes that held him and he cursed himself for his limited movement, but then Potter had his cock in a firm grip again and Draco's eyes rolled at the combined sensations- his mind losing all semblance of coherent thought. All he could concentrate on was Potter's hands and his lips and his cock…his wonderful, _wonderful_ cock ramming into him and hitting _that_ spot and…

"Come on," Potter hissed through his teeth. "Come for me."

Potter thrust again, brushing his prostate and Draco _screamed_ as he was propelled to the brink of orgasm. His wail of ecstasy rang through his ears, cutting through the silence as he spurted his release. "Harry!" he gasped, unable to stop himself. "Oh Merlin, Harry…"

"Draco," Potter purred, stroking his back and his hair soothingly. "Draco. Draco. _My_ Draco…"

* * *

><p>"Draco. Draco! Oh for Merlin's…<strong>Draco!<strong>"

Draco's eyes snapped open and he found himself looking into eyes that were most certainly not green. He yelped in alarm, flailing violently and nearly toppling off the couch. Pansy backed away with a squeak, hovering near the mantle with a look of alarm on her face.

"Are you okay?" she demanded. "You were kicking up quite the racket there."

Draco blinked at her, struggling to function. He nodded slowly. "Fine," he rasped. "Just…just a dream." He flushed as he shifted subtly, hoping desperately that Pansy hadn't noticed the…consequences of his little night time fantasy. She didn't seem too convinced.

"I see," she replied, arching an eyebrow. "Well, you really shouldn't fall asleep in the Common Room, you know. Why aren't you in your own bed anyway?"

"I…I came down here to read, I think. Just thinking about the match today." Of course, he declined to mention that he'd been browsing through one of Theo's 'magazines' when he had fallen asleep. That would explain the ludicrous dream. _Just a stupid dream…_ Draco wondered why he felt so disappointed.

"Boys and their Quidditch." Pansy shook her head in exasperation. "You worked yourself into a state, didn't you? Well, you might as well get up. Get some breakfast too. It won't do to lose to Potter first match in the season."

"No," Draco mumbled. "It wouldn't."

Privately though, he wasn't so sure if it would be _that_ terrible. Shaking his head, Draco got up and left the Slytherin Common Room, leaving Pansy staring after him with a frown on her face. 

* * *

><p>"Alright, Malfoy?"<p>

Draco jumped and whirled around, scowling as Potter approached him. He strode across the Pitch with his broomstick hauled over his shoulder. Draco suppressed a groan of frustration. Having Potter ambling about in the Quidditch Pitch was hardly what he needed right now. The memory of his wayward dream came back to haunt him and Draco swallowed before lifting his chin and staring his rival down.

"Fine, Potter," he bit out. "Just getting some air."

Potter smirked. "You look a bit tense," he commented. "Not nervous about the match, are you?"

"No!" Draco snapped. "I'm not and I wish everyone would stop asking me that! It's just a stupid match and I can beat your arse hollow any time I please."

Potter seemed a bit taken aback by his sudden implosion but then an amused smile pulled at his lips. "Well, no one can fault you for lacking spirit," he grinned. "Good luck today, Malfoy."

Draco scowled petulantly. "I don't need luck. I can beat you. I can beat you just fine!"

"That's adorable," Potter chuckled. "I almost believed you for a second."

_I almost believed you for a second._

Draco halted mid tantrum and his eyes widened as Potter looked him over appreciatively, his eyes darkening every so slightly. Draco's breathing hitched in response.

"I…I can," he argued weakly, even as a shiver went down his spine again.

Potter's eyes darkened in response. "Is that so?" he purred, coming closer. "Then, why don't we make this interesting?"

Draco's head swam as the blood surged to his cock. "H-how?"

Potter's grin widened. "Care to make a bet, Malfoy?"


	92. Exactly How It Happened

It started out like any other night. Harry was walking the grounds- well before curfew, by the way- when suddenly he heard a cry for help. Harry froze, half sure that he had imagined it. But there it was again! And it sounded like it was coming from the Forbidden Forest.

Now normally, Harry would _never _disobey school rules by going into the Forest, but someone was clearly in danger and they needed help! So against his better judgement, Harry picked up his wand and ran forth into the Forest, determined to offer assistance.

Sure enough, the cries were getting louder. Harry ran faster, leaves crunching under his shoes and twigs snagging against his robes and his hair. But there was no turning back now! He was almost there.

He ran into the clearing, and there it was! Harry could hardly believe his eyes. It was Malfoy- apparently cornered and fighting for his life. The Acromantula clicked its deadly pincers as it scuttled forward. On the other end, a menacing werewolf lurched from the bushes, making towards Malfoy as well. The blond caught sight of Harry and screamed. "Potter! Help me!"

Harry snapped into action at once. He cast a Stunner at the werewolf, but only succeeded in aggravating it. The beast turned on Harry instead- it's slavering jaw wide open and menacing. It pounced and Harry rolled away just in time, but not before the wolf managed to snag Harry's shirt with its sharp claws. The fabric tore away from his skin and the next second, those claws struck again and raked down his back. Harry howled in pain, but squirmed away, retrieving his wand and turning back to the wolf.

Malfoy wasn't faring much better with the spider. He was sprawled on the ground, his shirt muddy and torn as he tried his best to crawl away from the creature. Stunner after stunner had no effect; the monster just kept coming for him.

Harry had seen enough. With all the strength he could muster, he cast an _Expelliarmus_ at the werewolf, sending him flying into the depths of the forest. Then he turned to help Malfoy. The blond was fighting for his life, but he would surely fail without Harry's help. Deadly pincers struck at him, tearing at his shirt too. Malfoy screamed again and Harry roared, lunging into the fray and casting his own Stunners. Eventually, between the two of them they managed to incapacitate the monster.

With the spider unconscious, Harry helped Malfoy up. The blond was shaky, his shirt was ruined and he had scratches down his back, neck and hips. But he was unhurt. Harry had lost his robes and shirt while fighting for his life, but surely it was a small price to pay for their safety?

Without wasting another second, they ran back to Hogwarts and didn't look back until they were safe in school grounds again. Malfoy- tired and out of breath- leaned against Harry who gamely supported him, as he would undoubtedly do for any of his school mates.

That was the moment when Hermione found them. 

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><p>"…and that is <em>exactly<em> how it happened," Harry finished. His eyes were wide and guileless as he looked around at his fellow Eighth Years. Next to him, Draco smoothed down his tousled hair and dampened his swollen lips, nodding his acknowledgement.

"That's how I remember it," he agreed.

"Uh huh," Pansy drawled as she leaned back on her hands. Her skeptical eyes drifted to the welts on Potter's back and neck. "So…a werewolf, eh?"

"And an Acromantula," Harry corrected.

"Of course," Hermione put in dryly. "What other rational explanation could there _possibly_ be for your lack of clothing and all that bruising?"

Draco lifted his chin defiantly. "None whatsoever."

"For Merlin's sake," Hermione muttered, running a tired hand through her hair. Pansy gave her a commiserating smirk before turning to the boys again. "Well, thank _heavens_ you made it out alive," she said sincerely. "Although I have to say, something's still bothering me. Draco, how exactly did you get that bite mark on your neck?"

She raised an amused eyebrow as the boys exchanged furtive glances. Draco flushed and Potter swallowed audibly before starting off again.

"So, we take down the spider and suddenly, this vampire comes out of nowhere…"


	93. Black Family Movie Night

Written for an LJ Prompt: Whisper in the dark.

Featuring exceptionally alive!Sirius

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><p>In hindsight, Harry admitted that Black Family movie night was not one of his best ideas. It had seemed like fun at the time; going to the movies with Teddy, Sirius and Draco. Now however, he wasn't so sure...<p>

_Crunch._

_Crunch. Crunch._

**_Crunch!_**

Well, at least Draco was enjoying his popcorn. Harry winced at the racket his boyfriend was making, fastidiously ignored the glowering woman seated right behind him and tried his best concentrate on the movie.

Things had taken a bad turn for the little clownfish. He had been captured by divers and if his father didn't get to him in time, that awful little girl with the monster braces would take him away. Harry tried not to sigh at the unfairness of it all.

Teddy sure knew how to pick a tearjerker of a film, that's for sure.

Speaking of Teddy…

"Harry! Psst, Harry!"

Harry started a little at his godson's urgent whisper. "What is it, Ted?" he asked, leaning over the fidgety little boy. Teddy shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "I have to go," he whispered back.

Harry groaned. "Now? I told you to go to the loo before the film started."

"I didn't have to go then."

"Shh!" the woman behind them hissed indignantly. Harry offered her an apologetic nod before turning back to Teddy. "Can't you hold it? We'll disturb everyone if we get up right now."

Teddy glowered indignantly at him. "Harry, I have to go now," he said in that same, no-nonsense tone Draco used when he announced that he 'had a headache'. Harry was beginning to suspect that this was one of those famed Black traits. "If you don't take me, I'll turn my hair purple," Teddy threatened. "Glow in the dark purple!"

"Okay, okay," Harry muttered, getting up and taking his hand. "Real quick, alright?"

They shuffled out of their seats, eliciting reluctant grumbling and muttering from other movie goers. Harry offered mumbled apologies as he ushered his godson to the aisle. Suddenly, he was poked again. Harry whirled around to Sirius' grinning face.

"Great flick, huh?" his godfather enquired, not bothering to keep his voice down. His loud tone resulted in another round of grumbling. Harry tried not to groan.

"Sirius, hush!" he hissed. "We're in a movie theatre."

"Ugh, fine," Sirius replied blithely. "I was just going to say if you're taking Teddy down for a piss, can you grab me some more nachos? Those sumbitches are tasty."

"Fine fine!" Harry snapped. "Just keep it down."

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><p>It took him ten minutes to handle Teddy and another ten to get the nachos, but Harry finally made it back. His eyes adjusted to the dimness of the theatre and he stumbled back to his seat. He was barely settled when an indignant whisper from his right caught his attention.<p>

"Harry!" Draco snapped, poking his shoulder to get his attention.

Harry jumped and turned to his glowering boyfriend. "Tell your godfather to stop stealing my food," Draco demanded, huddling over his popcorn and glaring at Sirius.

Sirius wasn't going down without a fight. "Harry, tell Blondie to share!"

**"Shh!"**

"Oi! Keep it down in front!"

"Sorry!" Harry snapped in the general direction of the row behind him before turning to his misbehaving family. "Stop it, both of you. Sirius, I got your nachos. Here. Draco, learn to share. Now both of you shut it and let me watch this movie!"

He turned back resolutely to the screen and willed himself to concentrate. The father fish was making a break for it. Ha, those stupid seagulls didn't stand a chance in...

**Crunch. **

"Hey! There's no salsa with these nachos!"

"Ouch! That's my arm-rest, Black. Use your own!"

"Oh, take it to the Wizengamot."

**"Shh!"**

"Guys!" Harry snapped. "Seriously!"

"Heh. Don't you mean 'siriusly'?"

"Harry, I need to go again."

"Not now, Teddy…"

**Crunch. Crunch.**

"Oi! Those are _my _nachos!"

"Take it to the Wizengamot, Black."

"That's it! If you don't start behaving yourselves, Merlin help me I'm going to...Teddy, don't you _dare _turn purple, you hear me?!"

**"Shhhhh!"**

"Oh, shut **up**!" Harry yelled, finally losing it and rounding up on the stupid bint. "_You _fucking shush, lady! Why don't _you_ try handling them and see what happens?! Think you can do better, eh? **Eh?!**"

"Harry!" Draco gasped incredulously.

"Shut up and eat your gravel!"

Draco squawked in indignation and Sirius crowed happily. "Woo-_hoo_! Someone's getting the couch tonight!"

Harry snarled and took a step towards him, fully intending to throttle his godfather. Unfortunately, he was impeded by a firm hand on his shoulder. Harry turned to look right into the grim face of an usher. "Sir, you're going to have to come with me."

* * *

><p>It was a disgruntled and sullen bunch of Blacks who trudged out of the movie theatre, following a seething Harry.<p>

"I can't believe you got us kicked out of the movie!" Teddy complained.

"Nice going, Potter," Draco sneered.

"Really, Harry," Sirius tutted. "You should know how to behave in a public setting. Really bad show."

They blinked in confusion as Harry snarled dangerously and stormed off, stomping all the way back to Diagon Alley. Sirius shook his head and tutted disapprovingly, before turning back to the remaining Blacks. "So, who's in for the amusement park next week?"


	94. Avast, Ye Scarhead!

Written for The Fluffy Halloween Fest 2013 on LJ.

Prompt: Harry and Draco are flatmates, getting ready for a Halloween Party. Harry is going as a caveman and Draco as something sultry. He needs "help" with zipping up his robes/dress/costume.

**Warnings: Cross-dressing, NC-17 material. Proceed with Caution.**

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><p>"<em>Go as a caveman,<em> he said. _It's the easiest costume there is,_ he said."

Harry continued to grumble about Draco's unhelpful suggestions as he finally managed to adjust his not-so-modest loincloth and tie it up. The sheer amount of... _him _on display was disconcerting. Harry was fairly certain that real cavemen didn't necessarily wear leopard prints but the girl at the shop had talked him into it.

After two painful hours of skimming through fashionable prehistoric selections—all of which seemed to get scantier and more suggestive as the time went by—Harry was more than okay with taking her word for it.

At least these ones covered the family jewels.

He took another look at himself in the mirror, winced and hoisted his club. With any luck, his flatmate would be ready by now and they could get on with hosting their annual Halloween Party. The sooner it was over, the sooner Harry could put on a damn shirt again.

He padded over to Draco's room and knocked. "Are you ready yet? Everyone's going to be here soon."

"In a minute," Draco hollered back.

Harry scowled as he waited, tapping his foot and pacing outside Draco's room. Finally, even his saint-like patience in the face of Draco's primping rituals wore out and he banged on the door again. "Draco, come on! I'm starting on the pumpkin margaritas without you!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Draco snapped back. "Just come in, Potter!"

Harry huffed and swung the door open. The sight in front of him made him stagger to a total halt. Harry's eyes widened as he fought the urge to collapse in a dead faint. At least the club was handy. He could lean on it for support.

Draco finished fussing with his hair and turned to him. His frilly, red skirt ruffled as he moved and Harry's eyes tracked the movement. "Look at _you_," Draco grinned. His eyes roamed Harry's form approvingly. "I told you the caveman costume was perfect."

Harry nodded haphazardly, vaguely registering the compliment. He was far too busy devouring Draco's form with his eyes to pay real attention. "You… what _are_you?"

Draco rolled his eyes and struck a pose. "Isn't it obvious?" he demanded. "I'm a pirate wench."

"I can see that," Harry blurted. "You look… just…"

Draco smirked and made a saucy turn for Harry's benefit.

Harry noticed the sword swinging on his hip for the first time. In addition to the aforementioned scandalous skirt, Draco was sporting a white shirt that fit him like a glove. The sleeves were long and flared at his wrists. There was a gold hoop in his ear and a pirate cap with the Jolly Roger sat jauntily on his blond hair. The whole ensemble was topped off with thigh high boots and—Salazar help him—fishnet stockings.

Harry swallowed as he realized the skirt was even shorter in the back and displayed the barest glimpse of Draco's underwear. Black, lacy underwear. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. The loincloth was hardly going to hide his unfortunate situation for very long.

"So what do you think?" Draco asked.

"I...um…"

"I'm going to assume you like it," Draco announced, running a finger over the hilt of his sword. "You don't want to pitch your club against my sword, do you?"

The teasing put Harry back on familiar ground. "Careful, wench," he countered. "A little thing like you shouldn't go around taunting big, strong cavemen."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's more fun when I'm the one with the witty comebacks," he complained. "Now make yourself useful and zip me up." Harry hadn't noticed a zip anywhere. Draco just smirked and lifted one of his high heeled boots. He placed his foot up on a stool and gestured meaningfully at Harry.

Of course.

Harry chuckled fondly at the haughtiness but obliged and knelt to zip up Draco's boots. "And why can't you do this exactly?"

"Are you suggesting I bend over in this outfit? I don't want any rips or tears."

Harry would have liked nothing better than to rip and tear until Draco was flushed and naked and writhing on his bed, or bending over as the case may be. Perhaps it was the caveman talking but it was starting to sound like a fantastic idea as far as Harry was concerned. Although the boots could stay. Harry _liked_the boots. The leather felt soft and supple under his palms and he couldn't help running his hands over them as he handled the zipper.

Draco tensed and inhaled sharply. Harry smirked. So he _wasn't _the only one affected. Well, two could play this game.

"So I'm curious," he murmured as he traced Draco's calves through the boots. His voice took a low, husky tone and he noted Draco's pleasant shiver with a surge of approval. "Why didn't you just go as a pirate? Or do you just like being a _wench?_" He zipped up the boot as he let the word roll off tongue.

Draco gasped softly. "I like the stockings," he replied. "They feel good."

"Do they?" Harry's hand trailed up to the racy stockings and he ran his fingers over Draco's pale thighs. Oh, they did feel good. But Draco's skin felt better. "How does this feel?" he demanded, tracing a hand over Draco's thigh again. Draco gasped and arched into the fleeting touch. Harry's lips stretched in a predatory grin and he went further, letting his hand slip under Draco's skirt now. "How about this?" he asked, tracing the lacy underwear with teasing fingers. The tell tale bulge throbbed under his touch and Harry felt his own cock responding.

"Potter." Draco's voice was breathy and he was holding on to the dresser to support himself. He was biting his bottom lip and it was all Harry could do not to take him there and then. He could play a little longer though. Draco would come to _him _if he did this right.

So Harry zipped up the boot and straightened himself. "All done," he announced.

Draco blinked uncomprehendingly at him. His pupils were blown and his lips were swollen thanks to the assault he'd just put them through. "Is that it?" he half-whimpered. It was the most erotic thing Harry had ever heard.

He smirked and pulled Draco closer, placing a proprietary hand on his hip and drawing him closer. "What more do you want?"

Draco moaned and bucked against him, his eyes hazy and unfocused. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" he snapped, frustration tinting his voice. "What kind of caveman are you?"

Harry grinned and tightened his hold. "Oh, you'll see." That was all the warning he gave Draco before seizing him in firm, strong hands and pulling him into a bruising, searing kiss. Draco moaned into the assault and wrapped his legs around Harry, hitching up his skirt and Harry's loincloth in the process. Their groins rubbed together and Harry growled his approval, breaking the kiss. "My little wench," he hissed, moving over to Draco's bed and throwing him on it rather unceremoniously.

Draco landed with a squeak, but when he looked up at Harry his eyes were bright with mischief and a teasing smirk pulled at his lips. "It seems I've been captured," he drawled, stretching out on the bed and parting his thighs just a bit. "However shall I escape my fate?"

"Just lie back and look pretty," Harry growled, prowling over him as he prepared to stake his claim, caveman style. "You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill of your buried treasure."

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><p>Downstairs, a group of embarrassed guests exchanged awkward glances and polite shrugs. The moans and gasps coming from the bedroom upstairs were unmistakable.<p>

Pansy Parkinson tried her best to hold back stifled giggles, Hermione attempted to engage a mortified Theo Nott in conversation and Narcissa hummed and straightened a flower arrangement, evidently pretending that none of this was happening.

Lucius Malfoy and Ron had found some common ground too. They were both seated on the same sofa, staring out into the distance and sporting twin looks of dumbfounded horror.

"Well they're not coming down anytime soon," Blaise Zabini announced. "Shall we just move the party to my place?"

"Yes!" Lucius and Ron jumped up, screeching their approval in desperate unison.

"That would be wise," Narcissa agreed. "It wouldn't do to… ahem, disturb them."

"Speaking of _disturbed_," Ron muttered fretfully. " Could we please hurry?"

The remaining guests mumbled their assent and made for the Floo and various exits. Pansy smirked at Hermione, who grinned back.

"Saw it coming?" she asked.

"From miles away," Hermione replied. "Shall we head for Zabini's before we miss the real party?"

"In a minute," Pansy replied. She smirked and swiped up a bottle or ten. "No sense wasting good pumpkin margaritas, yes?"


	95. Catching Harry

**365 word drabble written for a prompt at hogwarts365 on LJ. Prompts used were: Once upon a time, Bellatrix Lestrange, Mr and Mrs Granger.**

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><p>Not for the first time in his life, Draco was grateful for having good reflexes. His lithe physique and training as a Seeker had come in handy several times, and not just for Quidditch. He was agile, quick to react and rarely missed his target.<p>

That said, Harry was certainly a lot harder to catch than the Snitch.

"Merlin's frilly knickers!" Draco cursed as his boyfriend dodged him _again. _"Harry, this has gone far enough! You will cease this childish behaviour or so help me, I'll…"

"You tricked me!" Harry argued back. "You said we were going to the p-park!" His green eyes were wide and full of hurt. Draco actually felt guilty before he realized what Harry was doing.

"The crup eyes aren't going to work on me," he replied firmly. "This is for your own good."

"But it will hurt," Harry almost wailed. "I thought you loved me!"

Draco groaned. Honestly, _why_ him? "I do love you," he soothed. "You _know_ I do, Harry. I'm only doing this because I care about you."

Harry scowled and crossed his arms defensively but at least he wasn't running anymore. "I can't," he whimpered.

"You can," Draco insisted. "You took down Bellatrix Lestrange in a duel once, remember? You were so brave. I _know_ you can do this, love."

Harry sniffed and Draco sighed, holding his arms out. "Come on," he coaxed. "Come here."

He sighed in relief as Harry approached and burrowed in his arms. Draco gathered up his boyfriend and stroked his hair, smiling as Harry snuffled into his neck. "There's a good lad," he praised. "I'll even take you to Fortescue later."

"I want hot sex _and_ cold ice cream," Harry mumbled sulkily.

"Of course."

"And a bedtime story. With the Once Upon A Time and everything."

"Okay, now you're pushing it."

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><p>In the interiors of the dentist's office, Mr and Mrs Granger watched as the tall blond soothed his quivering mess of a boyfriend.<p>

Mr Granger cleared his throat before turning to his wife. "That's the lad Hermione was talking about? The one who defeated that Evil Dark Lord Person?"

Mrs Granger shrugged. "Frankly, I'd put my money on the blond."

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading, luvs :)<strong>


	96. Galleons Well Spent

**Cracky oneshot based on a prompt on LJ. **

**Warnings: Non slash, angry goats, meanie!Blaise**

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><p>Draco huffed as he dangled on his branch, glaring down at Potter. Potter who by the way, had chased him up this blighted tree over a simple misunderstanding. This was hardly Draco's idea of a well spent Saturday.<p>

"Really, Potter," he drawled. "Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?"

"Maah!" Potter bleated angrily, stamping his hoof for emphasis. He paced—or rather cantered — around Draco's tree like a furry sentry, no doubt waiting for him to attempt an ill-advised escape. Once again, Draco tried to be the voice of reason.

"It's not my fault you're stuck in your Animagus form for the foreseeable future. And while we're on that subject…a goat, Potter? Really? Sometimes I wonder why I waste my time making you look like a fool at all. You do such a marvellous job on your own."

"Maah!" Potter argued vehemently. Well, at least turning into a goat hadn't damaged his witty repertoire in the least. Frankly, Draco thought this was an improvement.

"But I digress," he went on. "As I was saying, it was Blaise who offered me ten galleons to pull your tail. I don't see you chasing _him_ up trees. If you think about it, I'm the victim here."

Potter snorted and executed what Draco surmised was the goat equivalent of an eye-roll. He bleated again and butted his head against Draco's tree, his blunt horns scraping into the bark. Draco sneered at the pathetic effort. "Well, you're just wasting your time, aren't you? I'm not coming down and you can't climb up. So you can just let me know when you tire of this exercise in futility so we can carry on with our lives — some of us, ten galleons the richer."

Potter made an odd noise in his throat. Draco raised an eyebrow. He wasn't aware that goats could growl. Potter proceeded to issue a war-bleat and marched over with purpose. He planted his legs against the bark. Draco's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you think you're...Potter? No! You can't do that! Potter, stop defying the laws of nature this instant!"

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><p>Blaise's spoon paused halfway to his mouth as Draco trudged into the Great Hall. Much like everyone else, he stopped and stared in dumbfounded silence as his fellow Slytherin limped over to their house table.<p>

He had a black eye, his shirt was tattered and unless Blaise was very much mistaken, his tie had been chewed right off. But it was the red hoof shaped mark on his jaw that really put the picture together.

Draco adjusted his torn trousers for a bit of modesty and scowled at Blaise. "I'll take my ten galleons now."

Blaise gaped, momentarily unable to form a coherent response. Finally, he settled on the obvious. "How?"

Draco's lip curled. "Were you aware that certain species of goats can climb trees?"

Blaise blinked. "Um…not really, no."

"Well," Draco snapped. "We learn something new everyday, don't we?" He snatched up the galleons and limped away, presumably to the Hospital Wing. Blaise watched him trudge off, understandably flummoxed.

He wasn't entirely sure what had transpired between Draco and goat Potter. He wasn't sure he wanted to know either.

What he did know was that those were, without a doubt the best ten galleons he'd ever spent.

Blaise snickered to himself and returned to his breakfast.

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><p><strong>Note: I did some research on this. Some goats actually do climb trees. Who knew, right?<strong>

**Reviews, pretty please? ;)**


	97. Potter Malfoy Negotiations

**Little nextgen oneshot written for a prompt on LJ. The prompt was 'be fearless'**

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><p>This was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. Bar <em>none<em>. Harry took another look at the bright brick-red building in front of him. He swallowed slightly and knelt to fasten Al's jacket.

"There we go," he murmured, doing up the last button. "You're ready for school now."

"School," Albus repeated solemnly, staring up at him with bright, green eyes. Harry smiled but his heart twanged painfully. His sweet, serious little boy was going to preschool. It didn't matter that it was only for a few hours or that Harry was literally one Floo call away. This was Al's first day — his first time away from home, away from his Daddy.

What if he hated it? What if he didn't make friends? Oh Merlin, what if he cried? Frankly, Harry was starting to wonder if _sound pre-magical education fundamentals _were worth all this heartache. Al was barely three years old. Surely, he could wait another five or six years to…no, no he couldn't start thinking like that. He'd never be able to let Al go, and this was scary enough.

"Daddy, _school!_" Al whined impatiently, tugging at his sleeve. Harry smiled ruefully. At least, Al was handling this a lot better than him. He couldn't get started fast enough.

Harry shook himself firmly and pressed a kiss to his little boy's forehead, before imparting some final words of advice. "There's nothing to worry about, Al. You don't have to be scared at all. If you have any problems go straight to your teacher. Be nice and share your toys, okay? You'll make lots of friends. And remember, be fearless. There's absolutely nothing to…"

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Go home."

Harry chuckled and pulled him in for a hug, just because he could. "I can take a hint," he said. "Let's go find your teacher then."

Harry straightened himself and turned around. Immediately, a flash of blond caught his eye. Harry halted abruptly and automatically drew Al to a stop.

"And remember, I'm just an owl away," Malfoy was saying. The little blond he was talking to slumped his tiny shoulders and heaved a weary sigh. Clearly, this had been going on for a while. Evidently, Malfoy was too anxious to take note of his son's impatience or even Harry standing a few feet away. He ran a flustered hand through his hair and knelt down in front of the little blond. "Be nice to everyone," he advised softly. "Share your toys. Don't fight but don't let anyone push you around either. And above all, be fearless. You're a Malfoy, Scorpius. You…"

"Fadder," Scorpius interrupted rather decisively.

"Yes, son?"

"Bye."

Malfoy's lips twitched with amusement. "Brat," he murmured fondly. "You'll do just fine. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Later, Harry would wonder why he spoke up. Perhaps, it was empathy. Possibly, curiosity. Or maybe— and this was decidedly harder to admit— it was because, like Harry, Malfoy didn't have a ring on his finger. Either way, Harry felt somewhat compelled to announce his presence. "It's harder for us than them, isn't it?"

Both blonds turned around. Malfoy's eyes flashed with recognition, wariness and then mild curiosity, all in that order.

"Potter," he greeted carefully.

"Malfoy."

Harry offered a smile and Malfoy relaxed slightly, his rigid frame easing out a bit. His eyes strayed to Albus and a pale brow rose in apparent interest. Al blinked at him and Malfoy's lips twitched. "I see you have your hands full too," he quipped.

Harry chuckled. "He can't get rid of me fast enough."

"This one too," Malfoy replied with a smirk, gesturing to his son. Scorpius wasn't paying them much attention. His wide grey eyes were fixed on Al. Al was staring back with interest and somehow, Harry sensed that this was an important moment. He stilled and watched in anxious silence, vaguely noting that Malfoy was doing the same.

"Hi," Al greeted, releasing Harry's sleeve and taking a cautious step ahead.

"H'lo," Scorpius mumbled, detaching himself from Malfoy.

Al blinked earnestly. "Play?"

Scorpius nodded back, looking nervous but eager. "Kay."

Al grinned happily. "Slide!" he announced.

Scorpius cocked his head, considering the proposal carefully. He turned to his father. Malfoy offered a brief nod for reassurance but made no move to step in. Scorpius turned back to Al. "See-saw first," he challenged. Harry suppressed a chuckle. Clearly, someone was taking that _don't get pushed around _advice very seriously.

Al seemed a bit surprised at the counter-offer. He regarded Scorpius carefully and his little brow furrowed as he tried to work out this perplexing situation. Harry could swear he saw the exact moment when Al realized he would have to work to get his way this time.

"Okay," he replied, nodding slowly. "_Then _slide?"

"Then slide," Scorpius agreed solemnly. And just like that, the negotiations were done with. Al held out his hand and Scorpius took it, and then they were running off into the playground without as much as a backwards glance.

"Oi! Hang on!" Harry called out.

"Don't you want us to speak to your teacher?" Malfoy asked. Not _me. Us. _Harry couldn't help thinking that _us _had a nice ring to it.

The boys turned back and regarded their fathers with clear exasperation. "Bye," they chorused, before exchanging conspiring giggles and taking off again. Harry was left, blinking in the dust with Malfoy.

"That went well," he remarked finally.

Malfoy smirked. "We might have to arrange a few play dates in the near future," he said. He was watching their sons as they jumped on the see-saw. Al rose up in the air with a whoop of delight and Scorpius giggled. Malfoy's eyes softened at the sight and Harry reacted on impulse.

"Play dates sound like a great idea," he agreed. "Shall we discuss it? Maybe over coffee?"

Malfoy cocked his head, looking a lot like Scorpius. Harry swallowed and wondered if Al had felt this nervous a few minutes back. Then Malfoy smiled and his grey eyes glinted with mischief. "Sandwiches first," he replied, with the slightest touch of defiance. He crossed his arms as if daring Harry to refute him.

Harry's lips twitched. "Of course. Then coffee?"

"Then coffee," Malfoy agreed with a smirk.

Harry succumbed to a grin.

Perhaps, they could learn something from their sons after all.


	98. Puppies and Presents

**A few late Christmas oneshots I scribbled up for various fests and challenges. Still the season, yes? Hey, at least I'm not posting Christmas shots in July this time...**

**Prompt for this one: Puppy**

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><p>Draco stopped short as he entered the living room of his small flat. Almost at once, he dropped the strands of tinsel he had been intending to artfully drape over the mantle and groaned in dismay. His immaculate pile of presents— previously placed <em>precisely<em> under the tree— were scattered all over. Draco's hands went to his hips and his brow drew down in a definite scowl when he located an unmistakable wagging tail in the midst of the ruckus.

"Barney, no!" he admonished severely, retrieving the little trouble maker from the rubble. The golden retriever pup ruffed happily as Draco held him up at arms length, a piece of ribbon dangling from his mouth. Draco was not amused. When Harry had insisted on bringing the little menace home from the shelter, he had certainly expected some changes but this was going too far.

"Bad dog," he scolded. "You've knocked over one present pile too many, you little mutt. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Barney gazed up at him with brown, imploring eyes. Draco raised an unimpressed eyebrow, even as something warm and fuzzy threatened to unfold inside him.

Damn those eyes. Every single time.

Barney upped the ante, whimpering pitifully and wagging his little tail before treating Draco to a wet, sloppy lick.

"Ugh," Draco sputtered, wiping his cheek and placing Barney down gently. He took one look at that adorable furry face and those big brown eyes and sighed. He knew when he was beaten. "Fine, you can stay. But no more…"

Barney ruffed happily and launched himself in the midst of the presents again.

"…messing up," Draco finished with a sigh. He started in surprise as someone chuckled beside him. Tan arms wrapped around his torso. Harry smiled and leaned into him, watching fondly as the pup wrecked havoc on their small flat.

"You know you love him," he told Draco, pressing a tantalising kiss to his boyfriend's neck. Draco tipped his chin back and hummed in approval as Harry licked and sucked at the sensitive spot behind his ear.

"He's nothing but trouble," he argued weakly.

"Mm," Harry agreed, smiling into his neck. "You do attract a certain type."

Well, that much was certainly true. Draco smirked and leaned in, wrapping his arms around Harry and drawing him into a slow, languorous kiss. Harry hummed his approval and deepened the kiss, protesting with a groan as Draco broke away.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"If that puppy knocks down one more present, _you're_ going to be in the dog-house."


	99. The Perfect Snowball

**Warnings for non-slash and canon**

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><p>Draco hummed a Christmas carol to himself as he walked through the frozen winter wonderland that was the Hogwarts gardens. The snow crunched under his boots and he rubbed his hands together, feeling pleasantly content. Even with mittens on, his fingers were cold and he wondered if he should go in and sit by the fire after all. Then he caught sight of a clump of snow and a blond brow rose in apparent interest.<p>

He had always been good at making snowballs. As a child, his near lethal projectiles were the stuff of nightmares for the Manor house elves. On a lark, Draco bent down, scooped up some snow and set to work.

Meticulously, he palmed the frozen snow in his left hand, patting and shaping and perfecting it, marvelling as it all came together. It was so round and smooth and _perfect. _A white, round thing of wonder sitting in the palm of his hand. As he indulged his inner artist, Draco couldn't help but wonder what really went into making the perfect snowball. His were fantastic, of course. But surely there was room for improvement.

Did one coat the snowball with a dash of powdered snow for texture? Was it shaped so as to be perfectly spherical? Perhaps the perfect snowball wasn't made of 'snow' at all. Maybe one needed a bit of frost or ice to hold it all together. Or maybe it was all in the projectile.

The sound of boots crunching the snow behind him made Draco stop his inner musings. He turned and watched with interest as a familiar figure ambled by, maroon and gold Gryffindor scarf around the neck and a dreadful mop for hair. Potter whistled blithely and shucked some snow with his boot before resuming his walk, seemingly oblivious to Draco standing right behind him.

Oh, it was just too good. Draco's lips stretched in an instinctive evil grin and without a second thought, he lobbed the snowball.

Much like everything else about Draco, his aim was was immaculate as well. Potter looked around wildly, sputtering and rubbing the back of his head. Green eyes settled on Draco and immediately narrowed. Draco snickered happily and then Potter snarled in outrage and took a menacing step towards him.

With a gleeful cackle, Draco took off at once, prompting Potter to give chase. As he ran for his life, he realised that he had answered his own question. The perfect snowball wasn't about shape or size or texture after all.

The perfect snowball was the one that got Potter right in his stupid, fat head.

That, children, is what Christmas is all about.


	100. An Outstanding Performance

**Prompts for this one: books, candy cane.**

**Warnings for pervy boys and heavy suggestion.**

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><p>To be perfectly fair, Harry knew Draco wasn't doing it on purpose.<p>

For starters, they were in the library. The first thing Harry had noticed about his recently acquired roommate since their return to Hogwarts was that Draco could out-nerd Hermione when he got in the spirit of things. Well truthfully, that was the second thing he'd noticed. The first was how shiny Draco's hair was. But that wasn't the point.

The point in fact, was that Draco was currently leafing through a huge stack of books, a light frown furrowing his brow and his quill tapping agitatedly against the parchment. This only lent credence to Harry's theory. Draco was absorbed with his homework and was clearly oblivious to everything happening around him.

Therefore, he couldn't _possibly_ know he was acting like such a slag.

"Oh Merlin, he's going for another one."

Dean was certainly enjoying the show. His jaw dropped and he leaned over their desk, almost clambering over Harry in his efforts for a better view. On Harry's other side, Seamus whistled appreciatively and redoubled his efforts to burn a hole through Malfoy with the force of his leer. Harry slumped sullenly behind his own book, trying very hard not to hex them all the way to the Great Hall.

"How many does he have anyway?" Seamus demanded, sounding slightly breathless.

"No idea," Neville mumbled back. Harry scowled irritably at him and Neville at least, had the grace to blush. Then he broke eye contact and went back to staring longingly at Draco. "Quite a few, I imagine. Malfoy sure likes his candy."

His observation elicited a round of appreciative sniggers from the assembled Gryffindors. Well, all but one. Harry muttered under his breath, resolving to ignore his idiot friends. He for one, was absolutely _not_ going to stoop so low as to spy on Draco. Well, except for Sixth Year when he did spy on Draco, but that was different! It was nothing like…like this.

"Holy Mother of _Merlin_."

Seamus accompanied his declaration with another low whistle, and Harry lost his train of thought. Instinctively, he looked up and caught sight of Draco again.

Draco going to town on yet _another_ candy cane.

"Fuck, that's hot," Neville hissed.

Lucky for him, Harry was too busy ogling to pay attention. His eyes widened as Draco slipped the candy cane into his mouth, running his tongue down the length of the peppermint stick. He was still frowning at his notes but his fingers worked nimbly, handling the cane as he sucked it in and pulled it out, flicking his tongue against the hook and finally releasing it with a gentle _pop_. Harry swallowed and clenched his fists as Draco's tongue darted out to lick his lips. And then he started the whole agonizing process again. The candy cane slipped into his mouth again, pushing its way through plush, soft lips. Draco's eyelashes fluttered and he moaned appreciatively.

"That's right, pretty boy," Seamus growled. "Take it all in, that's it…"

Harry had had enough. He slammed his book down and marched over to the table. He crossed his arms and loomed over Draco, coincidentally blocking the view of a certain bunch of randy Gryffindors. Harry ignored the hisses of protest and concentrated on staring down sternly at the perplexed blond.

Draco glanced up and his eyes widened with surprise at Harry's grim expression. "What?" he demanded.

Harry took a deep breath and cleared his throat, wondering how to address this. Finally, he decided on the direct approach. "I think you should study in my— I mean, _our_ room from now on."

Draco blinked in confusion and then his brow drew down in a defensive scowl. "How nice for you," he retorted. "Now go away, I'm studying." He went back to scratching at his notes and licking at his candy cane again, and Harry's jaw clenched. He placed a firm hand on Draco's parchment, eliciting another protest from the oblivious idiot.

"Potter! Honestly, what do you think you're…"

"It's private," Harry insisted stubbornly. "Quiet, too. You'll get a _lot_ done, trust me."

Draco cocked his head curiously. "Why are you suddenly so concerned with my homework?"

"_Everyone_ is concerned with your homework," Harry snapped. "Which is why I _insist_ that you study in our room!"

"But…"

"Draco, just listen to me all right? You'll do less damage — I mean _more_ homework in private. Now come on, I'll walk you there."

Draco grumbled and muttered under his breath about bossy gits but he got up. Harry's shoulders slumped with relief as he started gathering up his books. "I still don't know what's gotten into you," Draco complained as Harry ushered him out.

"Not a thing," Harry replied, shooting a parting glare at the sulky bunch behind him. Dean scowled and mouthed _killjoy_ at him. Harry rolled his eyes and commenced shooing Draco out again. Honestly the things he had to do to keep his silly, pretty roommate out of trouble…Harry deserved a medal.

* * *

><p>Draco deserved a medal. At least, if they gave medals out for Outstanding Performance in the Field of Dastardly Scheming. He followed Potter out of the library without further protest, hiding a smirk as Thomas licked his lips and Finnigan leered at his retreating back.<p>

Gryffindors were _so _predictable.

He stole a glance at Potter again, admiring his lean frame and the broad set of his shoulders. Potter was stalking down the corridor, looking combative and almost territorial as he escorted Draco back to their room, seemingly intent on keeping anyone else from leering at him.

Draco grinned and his body thrummed with approval at the thought. _Definitely_ worth six candy canes.

And it just got better and better.

All he had to do was play his cards right and perhaps tonight, he'd be licking Potter's candy cane.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay for Christmas smex!<strong>

**On another note, I've just completed one hundred one-shots with this one. Yay! Two years of writing, and I've finally hit the big one. I'll be handing out some drabbles for a mini-celebration. First ten prompts get a 100 word drabble each. **

**Note that these will be short so please do try for a prompt that fits that limitation. Once my Christmas shots are out of the way, I'll post them.**

**Thank you so much for sticking by me and reading, lovely people. You've made my time here very special.**


	101. Old Rivalries and New Beginnings

**Prompts for this one: Christmas baubles, tree, mistletoe.**

**PS: 8 prompts have been claimed for my 100 word drabble thing. Two more slots left if anyone wants a 100 word snippet ^_^**

**Also, thank you so much to everyone who wrote in to review and congratulate my little 100 word milestone here :) Best always, your ever appreciative author.**

* * *

><p>The tree was coming along very nicely. Draco nodded approvingly as he draped some tinsel along the branches, enjoying the way the light caught against the myriad decorations. Returning to Hogwarts after the war hadn't been easy. There was tension and conflict and more than a few fights between ex Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, but Christmas had worked its magic among the newly designated Eighth Years. Petty bickering and old rivalries had been set aside as everyone pitched in to work on the tree, and the results were right in front of him. Not a branch was left bare. In fact, the giant fir was listing dangerously to one side under the weight of the decorations.<p>

It was perfect, Draco thought. They'd done it together and for some unfathomable reason, the thought was a pleasant one.

Great, now he was getting all sappy.

Draco rolled his eyes and took another critical look at the tree. He raised an eyebrow as he realized how much red was decked on the branches. Green was severely under-represented. Well, that wouldn't do. He selected a sparkly green ball and placed it firmly on a branch. There. Much better.

"Really, Malfoy? I thought we were done with old rivalries."

The sudden chuckle made him start and he nearly stumbled right into the tree. Potter grinned and approached, looking over the tree with approval. Draco flushed and busied himself with his box again. Potter unnerved him a bit these days. They had indeed put aside their longstanding rivalry this year, but things were still awkward. For one thing, he had no idea how to act around Potter anymore. For another, his ex rival insisted on being friendly and pleasant, leaving Draco confused and a tad flustered. Potter was clearly up to something. But for the life of him, Draco couldn't figure out what.

Potter didn't seem to share his discomfort. "Not bad," he commented.

"Not bad?" Draco scoffed. "It's brilliant."

Potter nodded. "Almost brilliant." Without explaining any further, he plucked up a sparkly red bauble from the box and placed it next to Draco's green addition.

Draco rolled his eyes. Typical, over-competitive Gryffindor. "I thought we were done with old rivalries," he said, mimicking Potter's earlier statement.

Potter turned to him with the hint of a smile, his green eyes glinting in the dim fire light. "We are," he replied softly. "I just think they look...good together, don't you?"

Potter eyed him intently as he spoke and Draco felt the colour rush to his cheeks under such intense scrutiny. Potter approached him carefully, cautiously. He extended an arm and wrapped it gently around his waist, drawing him closer. Draco stiffened, but went willingly. In hindsight, he really should have protested Potter's presumption - at least attempted a token resistance— but the git didn't really play fair, did he? Draco swallowed and his protests died in his throat as Potter leaned in— his lips hovering tantalisingly over Draco's, soft and warm and so, so kissable.

"Malfoy?"

"Mm?"

"We're standing under the mistletoe."

"Oh," Draco murmured, not really sure why Potter was talking about mistletoe right now. This was hardly the time. Potter's arms tightened around him slightly and he leaned closer.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

There. _Now, _he was making sense.

Potter hovered for a second or two, and then he swooped in for an unhurried, almost chaste kiss. His hand crept up to Draco's hair, twining gently into blond strands as he held him in place. His mouth plied Draco's— cautious at first and then insistent— urging him to respond in kind. Draco moaned his approval and wrapped his arms around Potter's neck, tilting his head for better access. Potter growled his own approval and deepened the kiss, plying Draco's willing mouth with gentle licks and nips.

As first kisses went, it was pretty damn perfect.

Potter broke away, much too soon in Draco's opinion. They stood in silence for a while and Draco leaned into Potter, trying to catch his breath.

"Malfoy?" Potter's soft whisper broke into the silence.

"What?"

"Why are you so daft?"

Draco blinked as he processed that totally uncalled for insult and scowled. "I am _not _daft!" he sputtered indignantly. "_You're _daft," he added as an after-thought because really, Potter _was _quite daft what with the kissing and the name calling. Who did that?

Potter chuckled fondly and pecked his cheek. "You are," he insisted. "If you weren't, you'd have realised I've been wanting to kiss you all year."

"Well, why didn't you?" Draco demanded. "See? You _are _daft."

Potter grinned again, his eyes glinting with unabashed amusement. "You have a point," he admitted. "Perhaps, I should make up for lost time then?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, it's only the most sensible course of action, Potter."

And when Potter leaned in for another kiss, he complied without protest.

Thank Merlin they'd given up on old rivalries. Potter was _clearly _lost without Draco's guidance and direction.

Daft git.


	102. Elopement 101

**Too hungover to do much else, but here's wishing everyone a Happy New Year. May 2014 bring only the best for all you lovely folks!**

**This one-shot was written in honour of the New Year. Prompts: Knight Bus, Manor and Champagne. Pairings are H/D and Ron/Pansy, just fyi. **

**I'll be posting a few more Christmas Shots after this and then...Well, I'll just pray 2014 is as good a year for writing as this one was. I really hit my stride in '13 and I'd hate to see it end. **

**Anyhoo... enjoy, lovelies!**

* * *

><p>"You know what's interesting?" Draco drawled as he secured the rope against Pansy's sturdy four poster bed. He yanked the knot once again and it held tight. "This isn't the first time I've helped you climb out a window."<p>

"Weird Sisters concert," Pansy replied distractedly, fiddling with a hair-brush. "We were…what, sixteen?"

"Seventeen," Draco corrected, pitching the free end out the window. "We wanted to make a night of it—see the Sisters, then go out to Muggle London, remember? But your father said no so we snuck out anyway."

Pansy's mouth twisted and she continued mangling her hair-brush. "It's nice to know some things never change," she whispered.

Draco struggled for words. "You don't have to do this," he offered finally. "There's still time to change your mind."

He wanted to say more, do more for her. But this wasn't something he could help her with. Some things…you just had to do them on your own. He had made his decision and never looked back. But, Pansy wasn't him. Whether she chose to go or stay, it had to be her choice. Draco would stand by her, no matter what.

Pansy however, had made up her mind. She straightened up and lifted her chin determinedly. Her hands shook slightly but only someone who knew her as well as Draco did would have noticed that. To the untrained eye, she was the very picture of confidence.

"I'm ringing in the New Year with my husband, Draco," she informed him haughtily. "Daddy can just deal with it and so can you. Now, are you going to grow a pair and help me elope or not?"

Draco suppressed a grin and turned to fiddle with the ropes again. "All done," he announced. "I'll go first. Get a good hold on the ledge before you start climbing down. And for Merlin's sake, be careful."

"Wait."

Draco turned again and regarded her enquiringly. Pansy bit her lip and smoothed down her travelling robes. "How do I look?"

Draco grinned fondly and pulled her in for a hug. "Like a bride," he told her. "Now come on, you don't want to keep The Weasel waiting, do you?"

Pansy sniffed and buried her face in his shoulder. "He'll be there, right? He promised he would."

"If he isn't, I'll kill him myself."

"Thanks, Draco. You're the best."

"Anytime."

* * *

><p>Parkinson Manor loomed behind them— dark and foreboding— as they tramped their way across the lawns.<p>

"The wards should end right here," Pansy whispered, bustling off towards the West Gate. "Hurry up, Draco! This isn't a field trip!"

Well, at least she'd got her spunk back. Draco rolled his eyes and quickened his pace, catching up to her easily. Pansy however, had halted. Her eyes were wide and her face was paling rapidly.

"What?" Draco demanded. "What's the matter?"

"The wards," Pansy shrilled. "He's changed them!"

Damn it.

Sure enough, it was true. Draco groaned and staggered back as an invisible wall kept him from apparating outside. Mr Parkinson must have anticipated The Great Escape, the bastard. There was no way they could Floo or Apparate out of the manor without express permission.

"What are we going to do?" Pansy whispered frantically. "Draco, we're trapped. We'll never get out of here now!"

Draco tuned her out and tried to think straight. Never let it be said that Malfoys lacked ingenuity. This was quite simply, not the time to panic. He took a good, long look up and down the lawns. No other exits in sight. The Floo was probably covered too, and the wards would extend all the way to the gate. Pansy's father would have anticipated magical means of escape and secured them all.

But what of Muggle methods? Would he have thought of that? Draco took another look at the gate and made a decision.

"Climb."

"_What?"_

"Pansy, start climbing! We're going to scale the gate."

"But…"

"Pansy, Weasley is on the other side of that gate. Do you want to go to him or not? And think quickly, because I just saw the lights go on at your house!"

That did it. Pansy squeaked in alarm and practically clawed her way up the gate, clutching painfully at Draco's hand as they scrambled up and over. They landed and steadied themselves and Draco realised he could hear the distant sounds of shouting now. They'd been discovered. Parkinson Manor was up and in arms. He groaned and grabbed Pansy's hand, making a run for it.

"Now, what?" Pansy panted as she ran alongside him.

"How much further before we can apparate again?" Draco demanded.

"How would I know? He changed the bloody wards!"

"Pansy!" Draco squawked. "Elopement 101! Always have a back-up plan!"

"You don't say?" Pansy snapped back. "I'll be sure to remember that the _next_ time I elope!"

Draco sneered in response and picked up the pace. The shouting was getting louder and closer, and unless he was very much mistaken he could even hear the baying of dogs. Bloodhounds? Really? What was this, 1875?

"We can't keep this up!" he snapped, as Pansy halted suddenly. "Sooner or later, they'll catch up to us! Keep running!"

"Ron will be here!" Pansy insisted, holding on to him and dragging her feet like a stubborn mule. "He promised!"

As heartening as her faith in Weasley was, Draco didn't share the sentiment. "Pansy…"

His reasonable and somewhat panicked retort was thwarted as an ominous rumbling sounded, nearly drowning out the barking and shouting of their pursuers. What in the world? Draco looked around wildly, expecting an ambush at any second. The rumbling just grew louder and louder, and then two blinding lights flashed in Draco's face. He barely had a second to note the monstrosity heading right towards them and then Pansy pulled him out of the way.

The double-decker bus hurtled to a screechy stop inches from them, teetering and creaking in protest.

"Get in!" Weasley howled, his panic stricken, freckled face poking out of the window. "They're catching up! Bloody hell Pans, you could have mentioned the bloodhounds!"

"Ron!"

"Oh, good grief!" Draco snarled, pushing her in. She toppled right into Weasley's waiting arms. Draco had about a second to clamber on himself, and then the bus was hurtling off at warp speed. Draco caught hold of the rail to hold himself up, finally managing to stand upright despite the bus' best efforts.

"We did it," he whispered in relief, sagging against the rail. "Merlin help me, we actually did it."

Pansy didn't reply. She was too busy sobbing in Weasley's arms. Weasley held on to her with a surprising gentleness, stroking her hair and whispering soothingly. Draco nodded approvingly to himself. Despite all the madness, he had a feeling this was going to turn out all right.

Weasley finally disentangled himself enough to acknowledge Draco with a terse nod. "Thanks, mate," he said thickly. "I owe you one."

"Damn right you do," Draco drawled. "Also, I have to ask. How the hell did you get a hold of The Knight Bus?"

Weasley gave him a lopsided grin and shrugged. "Ask your husband. He's the one in the driver's seat."

Caught somewhere between disbelief and incredulity, Draco turned around.

Harry grinned and waved at him, swerving on and off the road in the process. "Room for one more up in front," he called out.

Draco didn't need a second invitation. He staggered over and slumped down in the seat beside Harry. The exhaustion was catching up. His head was swimming with the details of his latest — and thankfully, last— madcap adventure of the year 2013. His best friend was eloping and marrying the Weasel. The Weasel owed him one. And his husband of four years was driving the bloody Knight Bus.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, missing a lamp post by bare inches. "You look tired."

"No, really?" Draco grumbled without any heat. He was just thankful it was over. "What took you so long?"

"Ron insisted we take a 'shortcut'."

"Of course. And what about…"

"The bus? Stan Shunpike and I go way back."

Draco cracked a smile despite himself. All this time and Harry still managed to surprise him. "Mad," he murmured fondly. "All of you Gryffindors— just bloody mad, the lot of you."

Harry grinned sheepishly and squeezed his hand. "Quite a night, yeah? Absolutely barking. Nothing like when _we_ eloped."

"We had a back-up plan," Draco replied, loudly enough for Pansy to hear.

"Shut up, Draco," she called back before returning to snog the life force out of Weasley.

Draco chuckled and rubbed his temples. "Please tell me you've got something to drink on this death trap."

"Glove compartment, I think. Oi, Ron! We're breaking out the champagne early, yeah?"

Weasley's muffled response was permission enough for Draco. He smirked and pulled out a chilled bottle. "Happy 2014, you barmy lot," he announced as he uncorked it. His celebratory swig was interrupted by Harry's hand on his wrist. Draco looked up at him, and Harry stared back uncertainly. "You're happy, aren't you?" he asked softly. "I know it's not been easy— eloping and building our life together. It's been tough and crazy and bloody wonderful and I wouldn't want it any other way. I just…I wonder sometimes, if you do."

A surge of tenderness rushed through Draco's heart. "Never," he promised fervently. "Every day with you is an adventure. That's what I signed up for. I wouldn't change a thing, Harry. Not then, not now, not in the New Year or anytime after."

Harry's smile widened and his eyes shone. "I love you," he whispered, pulling Draco in for a kiss. Draco smiled against his husband's lips. The warm familiarity of Harry's touch and his taste was all the security he would ever need.

"I love you too," he murmured as his eyes fluttered open. "I would never…lamp post."

"Beg pardon?"

**"Potter! **Lamp post!" Draco yelped in alarm, scrambling to swerve the wheel around. Harry squeaked and scrambled back in his seat. Somewhere in the back, there was a screech and an audible thump as Pansy and Weasley went crashing to the floor.

The bus creaked and rattled as they swerved, _just_ avoiding smashing full-tilt into the bloody lamp post. Draco managed to careen to a sudden stop. The bus halted with a groan of protest, or maybe that was Pansy. Draco turned to shoot a withering glare in the direction of his sheepish husband.

"Um, oops?" Harry mumbled, fidgeting awkwardly in his seat.

"Maybe we _should_ change a few things for 2014," Draco snapped. "Budge over, Four Eyes. _I'm_ driving." 


	103. The Philistines

**Prompts for this one: Candle, melancholy**

**Summary: Harry and Draco are not taking the Christmas Play seriously.**

* * *

><p>"Okay, let's try it again."<p>

Blaise nodded firmly and took another look at the script before turning to the 'actors' waffling about on stage. His leading man ignored him in favour of making faces at the mirror and Blaise scowled. "Draco, pay attention!" he snapped.

Draco abandoned the mirror and raised an eyebrow at him. "I was practicing my Scrooge Face," he informed Blaise snottily. "You have to work to look appropriately contemptuous and disdainful."

"No, really?" Potter retorted, grinning cheekily from behind his make-shift desk. At least he was in position, Blaise noted. Thank Merlin for small mercies. "I would have pegged you for a natural."

"Sod off, Potter," Draco shot back with a smirk. Blaise rolled his eyes and tried not to feel too nauseated. Those two were so not fooling anyone. The coy glances and flirting had started early on in the year, ever since they'd all come back to Hogwarts for the Eighth Year and Christmas had only made it worse. Now, they could barely keep their hands off each other. Blaise almost wished they'd go back to hexes and jinxes. That way, maybe he'd be able to get this sodding play off the ground.

The trials of a genius director were not for the masses to understand.

"Moving on," he bit out, muttering under his breath as he perused the script again. "So the next scene is in Scrooge's office. It's cold and melancholy and there's a sense of malcontent in the air…"

"So, it's the Slytherin common room," Weasley contributed, eliciting sniggers from the assembled crew.

Blaise had had it up to _here_. "Can it, Weasley! I'm setting the scene, okay? And _why_ aren't you in costume?"

"I'm in stage management."

"Well, then go manage the stage!" Honestly, was _everyone _out to sabotage this play?

Weasley retreated with a snigger and Blaise glared at his back before turning back to his amused actors. "Right, you two. The only light in the room is a single candle burning at the window. Now, Scrooge—that's you, Draco…"

"I know my character's name, Blaise," Draco sniped.

Blaise ignored him. "Scrooge is complaining because his clerk, Bob Cratchit…"

"Me," Potter prompted obligingly.

Blaise took a deep calming breath that didn't help at all. "_Wants_ a day off for Christmas," he finished through clenched teeth. "So can we please, _please _just do this one simple scene so we can all…"

Once again he was interrupted; this time, by an exaggerated ghostly moan and the rattling of chains.

"Wooooo! I am the ghost of Jacob Marley," a ragged, grey figure proclaimed, shuffling up on stage and flailing in a manner that was obviously supposed to pass for terrifying. "Fear meee…"

"Not _now_, Theo!" Blaise spat. "You're not on until the second act!"

Theo scowled and shuffled off the stage again, grumbling about philistines. Blaise prayed for patience and turned back to Draco and Potter, who had apparently given up all attempts at taking this seriously anymore. They were leaning against each other, laughing like maniacs. Potter's arm was around Draco's shoulder, holding him up as the blond staggered into his chest.

"Salazar's tits, you two!" Blaise snarled. "At least _try_ to behave like real actors! Draco, get your arse in character and tell Potter he can't have a day off for Christmas!"

"What's my motivation?"

**"I'll deck you if you don't is what's your motivation!"**

"Fine, fine," Draco replied, rolling his eyes. "Oi, Potter. I mean, Cratchit. You can't go home for Christmas, for some reason or the other."

"Well, that sucks."

"I know. Get over it."

"No, I meant your acting. It really sucks."

They started giggling like immature children _again_. Blaise was livid by now. **"Will you two stop faffing about and take this stupid play seriously?!"**

"Okay, okay," Potter placated. "I'll do my line first, all right?" He turned to Draco with an appropriately earnest expression. "A day off, if it's quite convenient, sir."

"It's _not_ convenient," Draco replied, apparently reverting back into character. Blaise deflated slightly and watched them intently. They weren't half bad…maybe this could work, after all.

"And why is that, sir?" Potter asked.

Draco seemed to be considering his next his grey eyes glinted mischievously and he regarded Potter with a sly smirk. "Well, I had plans for you here."

Wait, _what? _

"Oi!" Blaise sputtered indignantly. "That's not the…"

Apparently, Potter had decided to play along. His lips twitched with restrained amusement and he sauntered over to Draco, stopping just shy of touching him. "Oh? And what plans would those be?" he asked huskily.

Draco raised an eyebrow and let his hand trail down Potter's arm, wrapping around his neck in a loose embrace. "I could tell you, but I'd much rather show you," he replied, leaning in and brushing their lips together.

"Draco!" Blaise howled. "That is _not_ your line!"

"I'm improvising," Draco retorted with a shameless grin.

"I think he's doing a brilliant job," Potter defended, quite obviously fighting for a straight face.

"Why thank you, Potter. Now, you were saying?"

Potter laughed and pulled him over. "I was saying perhaps we should continue practicing our lines in private. How about it, Malfoy? Up for an _intense _rehearsal?"

"No!" Blaise snapped. "Say no and get back to the play!"

"Yes," Draco smirked. "After you, fellow actor of the stage."

And just like that they took off, leaving Blaise behind, gaping furiously. "No!" he shouted. "Damn it, you two! We're still in rehearsal! Get your arses back on this stage and…"

"Wooo! I am the ghost of Jacob Marley. Fear me, mortals! Fear meeee…"

Oh, fuck it. Blaise sighed and tossed the script away, calling it quits.

"Cut!"


	104. The Ham Heist

**Prompts for this one: Christmas ham, festive cocktails, alone on Yule Night, Christmas with the family, Imbibing too many Christmas spirits (aka being drunk off one's rocker)**

**Summary: Draco shows up at Harry's door, with ham and a story.**

* * *

><p>Harry was used to being alone on Christmas. It really wasn't so bad, he thought. In fact it was more choice than compulsion. He was still welcome at The Burrow, even though things hadn't exactly worked out with Ginny. Molly had said so on a number of occasions. Still, Harry hesitated. Christmas was a time for family, after all and as warm and welcoming as they were, he still felt like he was intruding. So he'd declined Molly's kind invitation, lit up the fireplace and settled under a comfy blanket with a nice book and some Chinese takeout. A bit pathetic? Maybe. But it would do.<p>

Therefore, no one was more surprised than Harry when a sharp knock sounded at his door. The knock was then followed up by what sounded like a herd of reindeer trying to stampede their way in. Perplexed and a little wary, Harry padded over and opened his door…

…only to see a wide-eyed Draco standing on the other side, swaying slightly and cradling a glazed ham.

"I did something bad," he announced in a small voice.

Harry regained his faculties in all of twenty seconds, after which he wasted no time in bundling the stupid sot indoors. "You're freezing," he hissed, rubbing Draco's arms to warm him up. "And what on earth are you doing with that ham?"

Draco blinked at his parcel, as if just realizing he was carrying it. "Father's going to murder me," he whimpered.

Something clicked in Harry's mind. Draco had mentioned he was going to spend Christmas with his estranged family. Harry specifically remembered this because last year Draco had done the exact same thing. He had also had a spectacular row with his father, gotten royally pissed and then showed up at Harry's flat to whinge and sleep it off. It was a sort of tradition between them now. The ham though— _that_ was new. Harry tried his hardest not to grin at the picture Draco made. He really did look quite cute, sloshed and sorry for himself and clutching his ham. It was hard not to find it funny.

"Let me guess," he teased. "You got pissed, fought with Lucius and made off with the ham, didn't you?"

Draco's lip quivered and he managed a half nod in response.

Harry gaped at him. "You _did?_" he squawked. "I was joking! How pissed were you?"

"There were peppermint cocktails!"

"Peppermint cocktails," Harry repeated blandly.

"Festive ones," Draco confirmed. "Red and green. And sparkly."

Harry groaned and rubbed his temples. "So, you really did steal your father's Christmas ham?"

"He was being mean to me!" Draco wailed, curling into Harry for comfort. It was a rather awkward fit, what with the ham between , Harry suppressed the obligatory eye roll and gave him a supportive half hug. "Honestly, why am I friends with you?" he grumbled, patting Draco's trembling back.

Draco whimpered like a lost crup again and Harry hastened to offer comfort. "There there," he sighed. "You know, I did tell you to give the Malfoy Christmas thing a miss this year. You always get in a row with Lucius. You _could_ have come over to mine and had a nice, traditional Christmas dinner—vodka, Chinese takeout, the works."

Draco grumbled something about _stupid Potter and his I-told-you-sos, _keeping up a steady spiel of sulky muttering as he was deposited on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket and given a cup of hot cocoa. Harry sat beside him, watching intently as the cocoa lent a warm flush to Draco's cheeks. Draco drained his cup with a satisfied sigh and his tongue darted out and swiped his lips, seeking the last of the delicious cocoa. Harry's breath hitched and he tried not to get too distracted.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Sort of," Draco nodded, looking around blearily. "Why…why am I in your flat again? I thought I was…oh Merlin, I stole the ham!" He groaned and hung his head in his hands.

Harry snickered and patted Draco's head. "Maybe this will teach you not to drink so much."

"You try hanging around Father sober on Christmas," Draco grumbled, stretching out comfortably and putting his head on Harry's lap. "Pet me. I'm upset."

Harry rolled his eyes and obliged, making a mental note to tease Draco mercilessly about this for the next ten years. "So what happened?" he asked, carding a hand through soft, blond locks.

"The usual spiel," Draco mumbled. "I'm a disappointment and a disgrace to the family name."

"You _are_ a disgrace to the family name," Harry offered cheerily. "You're bent, you're friends with me and you're working in a menial apothecary instead of at the Ministry. I'm surprised you haven't been disowned yet."

"Please don't ever go into motivational speaking," Draco snipped. "Your pep-talks are shite."

"I wasn't finished," Harry admonished, flicking him for good measure. "I was trying to say that I like you. Just the way you are. Everyone does. And if Lucius can't deal with your faults — ham snatching and all — that's his problem, not yours. You don't have to change for him or anyone else. You're perfect, just like this."

Draco turned and regarded him carefully. "I'm perfect?" he asked softly.

Harry bit his lip to quell his sudden nervousness before taking a chance. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Draco's, shivering at the sudden sensation of heat travelling down his spine. Draco's squeak of surprise turned to a moan of approval and he hooked a hand in Harry's shirt, drawing him in deeper. Harry's free hand slid to the back of Draco's nape, tipping his head up to taste him until he was finally compelled to break away. Draco sighed softly as he backed away, staring up at him with dark, stormy eyes. Harry grinned fondly. "Perfect," he repeated, tracing Draco's cheek with his fingers.

"I believe you," Draco replied with an impish grin. He settled back on Harry's lap and closed his eyes. "I'll be spending Christmas here from now on," he announced in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Of course," Harry chuckled. "Speaking of which…where's my present, you wanker?"

"Sod off. I got you ham, didn't I?"

Harry laughed and settled back on the couch, enjoying the warm weight in his lap.

Being alone on Christmas wasn't so bad. But Draco (and ham) made it so much better.


	105. Coconuts for Christmas

**Prompt: Family Traditions**

**Summary: Draco is a stickler for tradition and Teddy is obsessed with coconuts.**

* * *

><p>Draco adjusted his shades and settled back on his deck chair, watching the waves sweep the sandy ocean shores. He curled his toes in the sand and tried to relax. Lolling about on a beach was usually right on the top of his vacation list. However, this time he was on a beach smack bang in the middle of December and Draco couldn't help feeling a bit odd about it.<p>

Now mind you, Draco wasn't the fussy sort. But the season was supposed to be all about roaring fires and snowmen and snogging under the mistletoe. So excuse him for feeling a bit out of sorts.

'Christmas on the Beach' indeed.

Draco rolled his eyes and settled back again. This was the last time Potter got to pick where they went for the holidays, that was for sure.

"Coconut!"

The sudden declaration startled Draco out of his thoughts. Teddy scampered up to him and Harry, grinning excitedly as he showed Draco the latest addition to his collection of 'coconuts'.

"No, Teddy," Draco sighed. "That's a stick."

His toddler cousin appeared somewhat perplexed. He frowned and turned the piece of driftwood in his chubby hands before huffing and chucking it away. Then he spotted something else and pounced on it with an excited squeal. Draco groaned as yet another random item was shoved in his face.

"Coconut?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "No. Seashell."

Teddy wasn't having any of this nonsense. "Coconut," he argued stubbornly, cradling the shell to his chest. Draco sighed and beckoned him over. This obsession couldn't go on. Teddy toddled over readily enough and Draco pulled him up on his lap.

"Okay Teddy Bear, time for another life lesson," he drawled, summoning an actual coconut from somewhere on the beach. "_This_ is a coconut," he explained, holding it out to a delighted Teddy. "And this," he elaborated further, sweeping his arm across the ocean shore, "is literally everything else in the world."

A gaggle of bikini clad women passed by, laughing and chattering among themselves. Teddy watched them pass with apparent interest. Draco was half considering covering his impressionable little cousin's eyes but then Teddy chirped up again.

"Coconuts!" he announced happily.

Draco gave up and went back to his sun-bathing, scowling as he noticed the unmistakable sound of stifled laughter. "Keep laughing, Potter," he informed his boyfriend. "When he goes home and calls Andromeda a coconut, you can deal with the aftermath."

Harry stretched next to him and grinned, apparently enjoying himself a little too much. "He's just excited," he offered. "At least _someone_ is enjoying Christmas on the beach."

Draco smirked. "It's not all bad," he conceded. "I just think that there's something to be said for tradition, that's all."

"Tradition?"

Draco hummed and stretched, making sure that Potter got an eyeful of his lean, toned frame. "Oh, you know," he purred. "Snogging under the mistletoe, shagging on our bearskin rug by the fireplace… normal Christmas stuff."

He suppressed a smirk as Harry swallowed audibly. Green eyes darkened as they roved Draco's body with new found urgency. "Let's cut the beach trip short and go shag by the fireplace," Harry blurted.

"I don't think so," Draco drawled, settling back on his chair with his arms behind his head. "You'll simply have to wait for your fireplace shag."

"For how long?" Harry whined, shifting restlessly in his own chair.

"Until our _next_ out of season vacation," Draco replied smugly. "How does Easter in The Himalayas sound to you?"


	106. Out For A Walk

**Prompts: Golden and black Labradors, Snowy woods**

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><p>It was official. Winter was the perfect time of year.<p>

Harry grinned to himself and took a deep breath, revelling in the crisp chill and freshness of a lovely December morning. He was out for his walk and while the climb uphill was steep and slow, the view was most certainly worth it. The whole world was cast in a blanket of pristine white. From where he was standing, Harry could gaze down the small hillock and into the woods just beyond. Tall spruce and pines dotted the landscape, their branches specks of green and gleaming white in the sun.

"Beautiful," Harry murmured. An affable bark from his companion confirmed his statement. Harry chuckled and scratched Sasha's ears.

"Enjoying yourself, girl?" he asked fondly.

Sasha thumped her tail and ruffed excitedly, straining on her leash. Harry held tight. His golden lab was usually docile but she was particularly frisky today and Harry couldn't blame her. However, if he let her off her leash, she would most certainly run off and then Merlin knew Harry would be running through the woods for hours, trying to track her down.

"Not this time, darling," he cooed, stroking her in an effort to calm her down. "Maybe we can go for a run to the park later, yeah?"

Apparently, Sasha had other ideas. She yipped and made a sudden break for freedom, pulling Harry alongside as she bolted down the hill.

"Sasha!" Harry squawked in alarm, flailing with one arm and holding on to the leash and his determined dog with the other. "Sasha! No! Bad girl! Heel!"  
>Sasha responded with a rather condescending snort, closing all attempts at further reasoning by picking up the pace. Harry found himself being dragged off, slipping and sliding and careening down the hill as his dog refused to slow down.<p>

"Sasha, **stop!"** he yelped, missing a tree by bare inches.

But Sasha was clearly on the chase. She howled up a storm and sallied forth, dragging her protesting master behind her.

Harry followed, quite unable to do anything else.

* * *

><p>"Honestly William, what's gotten into you today?" Draco demanded as he dragged his feet in an effort to slow down his fanatic familiar.<p>

The black lab— who had inexplicably passed obedience school with flying colours, by the way— rudely ignored him and stalked his way up the hill, evidently following some sort of trail.

"William, heel!" Draco demanded, pulling back. "Bad dog! What in the world…"

William cut him off with a bark and a firm yank. Draco squawked, his shoulder protesting heavily against the strain.

"I _knew_ I should have gone for the Chihuahua," he muttered to himself. Unfortunately, not only did William hear that offensive remark, he also most certainly didn't appreciate it. He growled and stamped up the hill with renewed vigour. Draco was so busy trying not to get his arm torn off that he didn't register the blur of gold careening down the hill and right in his direction. William however, did. He yelped in delight and bolted forward.

"Stop it!" Draco snapped. "William, enough! You will heel or so help me, I'm going to…**aaah!"**

It was like being hit by the Hogwarts Express.

There was a brief flash of black and green and then Draco collided face first with and extremely solid…chest, he supposed it was a chest. Or a very warm, rather toned brick wall. Either way, it knocked all the breath out of him and then he was flailing and toppling down the hill with the solid chest slash brick wall firmly attached to him.

When they finally came to rest at the bottom of the hill, Draco's head was swimming and he was aware of very little save a volley of excited barks and the fact that the chest— and whoever it was attached to— was on top of him and pressing into his face. Draco coughed on some snow and shook himself to clear the ringing in his head.

Right, then. First things first, he had to get back on his feet. Then, he was going to kill his dog.

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned his head, blinking as he stared into green, concerned eyes.

"Potter?" he mumbled. It was Potter. Potter was on top of him. Draco groaned as his head swam. That was not good. William's barking was getting fuzzier. On the other hand, Potter felt so nice and…warm. Draco sighed and curled into him, intending to sleep off for the next ten years or so.

Potter wasn't having any of it. "Malfoy!" he snapped, shaking Draco frantically. "Are you okay? Malfoy, talk to me! Say something!"

Draco obliged. "I wanted a Chihuahua," he informed Potter, before slipping back into blessed slumber. 

* * *

><p>Draco woke slowly and groggily, struggling to regain his faculties. He cracked a wary eye open, frowning as he processed his surroundings. He was covered in blankets and lying on a couch that was not his own, in a room that was also not his own. Additionally, he had been divested of his clothing and was clad only his boxers. Those thankfully, were his own.<p>

Any further musings were interrupted by a concerned whimper. Draco grunted in discomfort as a seventy pound lab clambered on the couch and proceeded to lavish him in doggy kisses. "William!" he groaned, trying to push away his furry assailant. "_Stop_ it, you oaf. I'm fine!"

William was not convinced. He whimpered and pawed fretfully at Draco, sending him sprawling on his back. Then he settled himself on Draco's lap, snuffling and whimpering apologetically. "Oh, so you're sorry now, are you?" Draco grumbled. "This happens to be your fault, I'll have you know."

William gazed at him with sorry, soulful brown eyes and Draco's ire deflated like a bad soufflé. "Come here, you great mutt," he grumbled, petting his doggy menace. William barked happily and planted his paws on Draco's shoulders, proceeding to lick him with great enthusiasm despite Draco's vehement protests.

Fortunately for Draco, he was rescued from William's affectionate attentions by the golden lab that came bounding in the room. William abandoned Draco in all of two seconds and bolted over, greeting his new friend with a round of vociferous tail wagging and affectionate nuzzling.

"Man's best friend, my arse," Draco grumbled. "I can't believe you threw me over for a girl!"

The girl in question wagged her tail and bounded over to lick his hand. Draco treated her to an ear scratch too. "Well, at least she's pretty."

"She likes you."

Draco startled at the sudden interruption and whirled around. Potter stood in the doorway, holding two cups of steaming cocoa. "Malfoy," he greeted, eyeing Draco cautiously.

"Potter," Draco replied, just as uneasily.

Well. This was awkward...

"How are you feeling?" Potter asked. "That was a nasty tumble." His eyes flickered to Draco's bare chest. Draco's cheeks flushed and he resisted the urge to pull his blankets up. Instead he lifted his chin and met Potter's gaze steadily.

"Fine, thanks. What…happened, exactly?"

Potter scrubbed his hair awkwardly. "Well, I was just walking Sasha— like I do, everyday— and I think she took a liking to your bloke over there. Next thing I knew, I was on top of you and you were mumbling about Chihuahuas and I couldn't just leave you there, so I brought you here and…"

"Took off all my clothes?" Draco asked pointedly.

"Well, you _were_ soaking wet and unconscious…"

"Drying Charm?"

This time, Potter flushed. Draco raised an eyebrow as colour rose to his cheeks in a most appealing manner. "That…would have worked too, I guess," Potter stuttered. "I didn't think…"

"No," Draco drawled. "Clearly not." Potter looked about ready to melt into the floor, so Draco took pity on him. "Sit," he ordered, shifting over and patting the couch. "Make yourself at home."

Potter rolled his eyes but obliged without protest. "Thank you. Cocoa?"

William and Sasha observed them curiously before going back to nuzzling and fussing over each other. Draco cracked a smile, watching William make a complete arse of himself over the girl. When he turned, he noticed Potter grinning too. "Who would have thought, eh?"

"Mm," Draco agreed noncommittally. He stretched and allowed the blanket to slip off his shoulders, noting with a triumphant smirk as Potter's eyes drifted again. "It would be a shame to separate them, don't you think?"

Potter licked his lips and nodded slowly. "I do. Perhaps you'd consider staying a while?"

"We'd be delighted," Draco smirked. "Now, about my clothes…"

Potter's cocked his head as he considered that. His lips curled into a wicked smirk that sent a thrilling shiver down Draco's spine. "I think you look rather fetching this way, Malfoy. Perhaps I'll keep them."

Draco could live with that. He subsided with a barely there smirk and went back to watching the dogs. Given enough time, he was sure he could convince Potter to keep _him _too.

This, he decided, would work out splendidly.


	107. 100 word drabble: Gift for EProspit

**My first 100 word drabble gift for ****EPropspit.**** Prompt: Hair Tangles**

**Warnings: NC-17, Not fit for minors**

**PS: 2 slots are still open in case anyone wants to request a little ficlet. Please don't make me write just eight instead of a nice, round ten. I get all twitchy...**

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><p>It was no secret that Harry loved Draco's hair.<p>

He loved the way it gleamed in the sun. He loved how it fanned out around his pillows, soft and enticing to the touch. He especially loved the way it framed Draco's face, accentuating his high cheekbones and softening his otherwise, sharp features.

Draco's hair was perfection itself.

But what Harry loved most about it was how he could tangle his hands in those soft, golden strands and hold Draco in place as he rammed into him over and over again.

_That_ was definitely what he loved best about Draco's hair.


	108. 100 word drabble:Gift for sw33tch3rrypi3

**100 word drabble written for** **sw33tch3rrypie3.**** Prompt: Purple Socks**

**Warnings for nudity.**

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><p>"It's just <em>not<em> possible."

"Are you saying I _can't_ do it?"

Harry snorted. "Draco, you're sex on legs. But even _you_ couldn't make _those_ hot." He gestured disparagingly at the purple socks Draco was wearing.

Draco sauntered off to the bedroom. "Five minutes," he challenged. Harry snorted disbelievingly but waited.

When he finally entered, his mouth ran dry, his eyes bulged and all the blood in his body went straight to his cock.

Draco stretched out on the divan, completely nude except for his socks. He extended one sock clad foot and ran it over Harry's bulging trousers.

"Told you."


	109. Draco's Ditties

**Written for Hogwarts365 Challenge on LJ. Prompts used: "A king with no crown", Cho Chang, Spanking**

**Warnings: Spanking and Bad Poetry**

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><p><em>Weasley is our king<em>  
><em>A king who has no crown<em>  
><em>The Quaffle flies and everyone cries<em>  
><em>The Weasel's going down.<em>

Draco was humming while doing the dishes. Harry grinned. His boyfriend hadn't noticed him yet. Harry prowled over silently. Draco continued singing, oblivious of the danger behind him.

_Weasley is our king_  
><em>The greatest king we've ever seen<em>  
><em>He looks his best in a pretty dress<em>  
><em>Maybe Weasley is a queen.<em>

Harry bit his lip to quell his laughter. Say what you will about Draco, he was definitely entertaining. After a series of awkward and uncomfortable encounters with both Cho and Ginny in his school years, Harry had almost given up on having _fun_ in a relationship. Then Draco had come along. Harry had been entertained ever since.

He was being entertained right now.

He sidled over and wrapped an arm around Draco's waist. His boyfriend gasped in alarm and nearly dropped the dish. Harry tightened his hold. "Very creative," he murmured, nipping at Draco's earlobe. "You get better every day."

"I didn't hear you come in," Draco replied.

"And I suppose you think it's funny to make up nasty songs about my friends when I'm not around?"

Draco huffed petulantly, trying to extricate himself. "It's a free country."

Harry grinned and nipped at the dip of his shoulder, eliciting another gasp from Draco. "Say that again?"

Draco keened and renewed his struggles. "I won't do it again," he offered reluctantly.

"No, you won't," Harry replied. "Because next time, you'll remember the sound spanking I'm about to give you."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Harry responded by settling in a chair, dragging Draco down on his lap. His cock twitched in anticipation as Draco came without a struggle, raising his arse in invitation.

"Do your worst," he challenged, with a haughty lift of his chin.

Harry raised his hand and dealt a sharp smack to Draco's bottom.

* * *

><p>Harry woke up the next morning, blinking as he noticed something scribbled on his chest.<p>

What the…? Harry squinted as he tried to read the message.

_Potter is a brute_  
><em>He smacked my arse, the lout<em>  
><em>Oh by the way, I just wanted to say<em>  
><em>This ink will not come out.<em>


	110. 100 word drabble: Gift, MiseryRevisited

My third 100 word Drabble: A gift for **MiseryRevisited** who originally prompted me with **Candle**

**Warning: Angst (Sorry!)**

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><p>It was one candle— one insignificant flame flickering by his bedside. But Draco's world revolved around it.<p>

Every flicker added to his anxiety. What if this time, the flame burnt out? What if Harry didn't return?

He knew it was ridiculous. Harry had been on dangerous missions before. He _always_ came home.

Draco wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but when he woke, it was to strong arms wrapped around him. He couldn't bring himself to speak, so he buried his face in Harry's shoulder and let the tears fall.

Harry kissed him and whispered "It's okay, love. I'm home."


	111. 100 word drabble: Gift for DragonCrazy

A 100 word drabble from** DragonCrazy** who requested the prompt: **Plushy Dragon named 'Grr'.** Yes, I know I'm very late with these but they _will_ happen, I promise.

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><p>"It was nice of Narcissa to send over your old things," Harry commented as he rummaged in a box. Suddenly, his hand connected with something soft. "What's this?" he asked, pulling out a frayed stuffed dragon.<p>

Draco stared incredulously. "Grr?"

"Sorry?"

"It's Grr!" Draco exclaimed. "I had him when I was five. I thought Mum threw him out."

Harry waved the dragon about. "Fierce fellow, this."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's just a silly toy, Potter."

Harry grinned teasingly. "You know, you're right. I'll throw him out and…"

Draco gasped and snatched the dragon, clutching him protectively. "Don't you _dare!_"


	112. Scones and Something Sweeter

This was written for the Valentines Fluff Fest on LJ. The prompt was: Muggle AU where Harry and Draco meet for the first time.

**Warnings: Muggle!non magical!AU, ****_A Song of Ice and Fire_**** references**

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><p>Contrary to popular opinion, Draco was not melodramatic. In fact, on most days he was the epitome of rationality. Calm, collected...some might even go so far as to call him <em>poised<em> and they would be correct— fuck you very much, Theo. Yes, he had his bad days like everyone else. Who wouldn't be in a bad mood after a late night of cramming for their Comparative Literature Finals? It was Blaise's own fault for being within biting distance in the first place.

Granted, he was victim to the occasional fall out like everyone else in the world, but that didn't mean he deserved to be saddled with the moniker 'Drama Queen'. Draco did not blow things out of proportion. He did not succumb to hissy fits or the occasional blind rage and he was most certainly not crazy.

That being said, if Draco didn't get a spot of Darjeeling and a serving of white chocolate raspberry scones at his favourite tea house within the next ten minutes, someone was going to die.

It would be a horrible death too—something involving cheese graters and sea salt. Draco was creative. He could improvise.

There were reasons for this uncharacteristic emotional landslide, of course. Draco wasn't _normally_ this frazzled. It had just been a bloody awful week.

First, he had only secured an A on that Com Lit Final which was devastating enough. Father had of course, followed up that happy occasion with the usual lecture, featuring some old classics including _there's no future in literature, stop wasting time on that silly hobby of yours _and_ when will you own up to your responsibilities and join the family business._

So far, par for the course. But then it got worse. Theo committed the ultimate blasphemy by revealing the season finale of _Game of Thrones _before it was even on air. His whining about the books being out for ages notwithstanding, that was unforgivable. Draco refused to take his calls.

Perhaps the worst of all—not that Draco would ever admit it— was that it was Valentine's Day and he was all alone. Adrian had dumped him the week before— something about their relationship being 'too stressful' and 'needing a break'. Frankly, that had hurt a bit. Their time together had been a bit rocky but Draco wouldn't go so far as to call it 'stressful'. Apparently, Adrian thought differently.

Needless to say, Draco _really_ needed that scone. Perhaps it was foolish, but somehow he just knew that the moment he felt that white chocolate melting in his mouth, with that buttery crunch and the tartness of the raspberry assaulting his senses, it would all be better. All his problems would just disappear. But for that, he needed the scone.

Draco stepped into the tea house— aptly named Molly's, after the owner — and smiled as the warm scents of pastry and tea brought him a sense of familiarity and comfort. Molly was behind the counter and she beckoned him over at once.

"Draco, love!" she cooed, fussing over him as soon as he was within arm's reach. "Well, it's been a long time hasn't it? Oh, look at you— thin as a rail. Well, we'll fix that right up, won't we?"

Draco tolerated the petting and fussing as best as he could. Molly was a peach and she enjoyed doting on him. Secretly, he rather enjoyed it but one does have an image to worry about.

"I'm fine, Molly," he promised, trying to extricate himself from her maternal attentions. "How's the family?"

Molly beamed at him. "Well, aren't you a love for asking about an old woman? Everything is wonderful. Bill is bringing the grandchildren over next week and Charlie is still out making those wildlife documentaries of his...oh, but listen to me jabbering on! Let's get you your usual then— a nice Darjeeling?"

Draco could have kissed her. "Thank you. And some of your white chocolate scones, please." Finally! He would have his scones and the world would once again be good and pure and...

"Oh, I'm sorry love. We _just_ ran out of those."

Draco's world screeched to a standstill. The sun faded, the birds stopped chirping and the winds of despair blew in his ears. "What?" he whispered, even as his heart sank right down to his Converse trainers.

Molly clucked apologetically. "You just missed the last batch, dear. Why, a second sooner and they'd have been yours."

"No." Draco shook his head frantically, eyes wide and unblinking. This couldn't be. How could fate have been so cruel, so unfeeling, so bloody _mean?_

"Oh, love. We have other scones..."

"No!" Draco cried out. The pain in his heart gave way to something else— a fierce, self righteous, burgeoning wave of rage, the kind warriors in battle might experience when they're out to defend their land and women from vile invaders.

"I must have them, Molly," he intoned with forced calm. "I _must_ have those scones."

Molly shrugged and gestured to a table behind him. "Well, you'll have to talk to that young fellow over there then. Perhaps he'll share, yes?"

Share? **Share?!** Draco didn't _want_ to share! They were _his_ scones! His and only his! What kind of _monster_ would take them from him when they were so obviously his? What kind of evil, soulless bastard would...well, he was going to find out, wasn't he?

Draco whirled around and his eyes landed dead on the offender. The thief was seated at a table not too far away. He was dressed sloppily— in a hoodie and jeans— as criminals are wont to do. Draco sneered. Just look at him, sitting over there in his stupid Man U hoodie and his stupid glasses, reading his stupid book.

Thief! Villain! Charlatan!

The thief ran a hand through his atrociously messy black hair and flipped a page, apparently unaware of just how much danger he was in. Draco's eyes narrowed as the bloke extended a hand and reached for the plate on his table. A plate of white chocolate scones topped with raspberry jam.

Oh, _hell_ no.

Draco vision went a tad hazy. The voices in his head surged, clamouring for retribution. His entire world narrowed down to a plate of delicious scones in the possession of a vile, hoodie clad villain. And then he was moving with purposeful strides to the table, murder in his eyes and fire in his heart.

It took the bloke a second to figure out he was being glared daggers at. Eventually he extricated himself from his book and blinked at Draco. His brow furrowed and vivid green eyes narrowed in confusion. "Can I help you?"

Draco— who had been momentarily stunned by the sheer green of those eyes— recalled his mission. The scones were still sitting their innocuously and the sight did nothing to quell his temper. He turned back to the thief.

"_You_," Draco intoned in a livid hiss.

The bloke blinked again. He had long eyelashes. Draco couldn't help but notice them behind those awful glasses. "Yeah," he replied slowly. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Oh. Oh, he wanted to help, did he? Well, Draco would tell him what he thought about _that_. "My scones," he snarled, somehow managing to convey a whole set of terrifying death threats in those two simple syllables.

"Excuse me?"

"My scones," Draco hissed, too overwrought to form coherent sentences by this time. "You took. Give _back_!"

"Mate." The bloke shook his head slowly, looking over Draco with a hint of concern. "You're not making any sense. Are you having a stroke or something?"

Okay. Okay, that was it. Bring out the cheese graters, Draco was going to town! He slammed his fist on the table, rattling the plate and the bloke for good measure. He jumped and looked up at Draco, comprehension of his crimes no doubt dawning in that dim brain. Draco however, was going to make things clear. "Those are my scones," he bit out, clearly and firmly. "I want them. Give them back if you want to live."

There was stunned silence for a second. The bloke gaped at him as if he'd grown a second head. Then he cleared his throat and addressed Draco again. "You want these scones?" he asked. "Because they're yours?"

"That's correct," Draco replied, resisting the urge to offer him a gold star.

The bloke however, just looked amused. "Even though I paid for them?" he prodded. He was smiling now, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Unfortunately for him, Draco was _not_ amused. The man had him on a technicality, but he was not going out without a fight. "I will take them from you," he threatened. "They are _my_ scones and you just got here first and that's why you have them. But they are _mine_. No court will convict me!"

"I understand," he replied with a sincere nod. But his lips were pressed together and he was obviously trying not to laugh and Draco was starting to see red.

"Listen, you..."

"Why don't you sit down?"

Draco—who had been prepared to go for the butter knife by now— shut up abruptly. His rant trailed off at the unexpected invitation and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was obviously being lulled into a false sense of security here. Any second, this tosser would take the scones and make a run for it...

"I'm serious," the tosser said, pushing the plate over. "You don't plan to eat them standing over there, do you?"

Draco's eyes darted from the offered plate to the man's sincere, open expression. "You...you're giving..." He faltered slightly. This didn't make any sense.

"My scones?" he demanded hesitantly.

"All yours," the bloke assured him, pulling out a chair. "If you sit down."

"I won't share," Draco informed him just in case he got any bright ideas.

He got another cheeky grin in response. "I wouldn't expect you to. Besides, you clearly need them more than I do. Now come on, sit down and stop being homicidal for a minute."

Draco obliged, still suspicious but somewhat grateful. The scones were right there in front of him, buttery and delicious and finally in reach. He almost didn't want to believe it. His hand fluttered uncertainly over them for a second. Then the bloke smiled and pushed the plate over to him again. Draco picked up a scone and bit into it.

It was everything he had imagined and better. The chocolate melted on his tongue and the raspberry made his senses flare, and all through that, there was the lovely, flaky pastry. This was it. Life was good again. There was love and peace and beauty in the world and...

"There we go," an amused voice quipped, breaking into his reverie. "All better now?"

Draco started and looked up, only to stare into a pair of stunning, green eyes, sparkling with mirth. The bloke was grinning at him, his smile amused but certainly not mocking. Draco flushed with embarrassment as he recalled the scene he had made. Maybe his friends were right. Maybe he _was_ just a lunatic...

"I'm Harry," the bloke said, holding out his hand. "Harry Potter."

"Draco Malfoy," Draco mumbled, swallowing around his scone and taking the offered hand. "Thanks for...for the..."

"No problem," Harry replied. "Like I said, you _clearly_ needed them more than I did."

Draco flushed again, wishing he could melt off his seat. "It's been a lousy week," he explained.

Harry nodded. "I get that. I once attacked my friend Neville over the last cup of coffee." He reached over to squeeze Draco's shoulder. Draco's breath hitched as the innocent touch made his skin flare, but Harry didn't seem to notice anything amiss. "You feel better though, right?" he asked softly.

Draco nodded. "I do, thanks. It's just...sometimes I get a little...well, crazy."

Harry's smile widened and the grip on Draco's shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly. "All the pretty ones do," he whispered.

And now they were flirting. Draco's blush deepened and he looked away. His eyes landed on the book Harry was reading. "Is that _Game of Thrones_?" he asked, perking up at once.

Harry treated him to a long suffering sigh and picked the book up. "Actually, the series is called _A Song Of Ice And Fire. _Christ, I can't say that enough. You watch the show then?"

Draco smiled. "I love it."

"Well personally, I prefer the book," Harry replied. "This is the fourth instalment. It's getting pretty good actually. See, Tywin Lannister..."

He trailed off suddenly as if realizing something. Then, he shook his head and smiled at Draco. "Actually, you know what? I won't spoil it for you. But believe me, you're in for one hell of a show."

Draco's heart surged. He pushed the plate of scones over to Harry again. Harry raised his eyebrow a fraction and Draco smiled shyly at him.

"We can share," he murmured.


	113. 100 word drabble:Gift,TheSilentDarkAngel

100 word drabble for the lovely **TheSilentDarkAngel** who gave me the prompt: **Cleaning windows**

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><p>"Is it over yet?"<p>

Harry suppressed a chuckle and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend. They were cleaning the windows in their new house. It had taken an hour to get Draco on the scaffold and another two to get the scaffold in the air.

Now they were perched on the narrow platform with a bucket and a sponge. Draco wasn't exactly helping, what with refusing to let go of Harry for as much as a second.

"Almost," Harry soothed. "Just relax, okay?"

Draco whimpered in dismay and glommed on to him again.

Harry couldn't wait to retile the roof.


	114. Tough Love

**Written for the JMDC Challenge on LJ. Prompt was bet/wager.**

**Next gen fic with ****warnings for angst and injury****. Main Characters: Draco, James Sirius Potter**

**Other notes: This is really not my best work, but the prompt wouldn't leave me alone. My excuse is that I love next gen and I wanted to write Draco as a stern but good father. Also, I wanted to do a piece where parenting isn't always sunshine and roses. Sometimes, things get tough and parents need to lay down the law. Hopefully, that comes across here.**

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><p>Speaking from a purely logical standpoint, Draco was fairly certain that he <em>must<em> have been this angry sometime in the past. He had four children, after all. Being driven to fits of rage should be a second nature by now.

That being said, he couldn't recall ever having experienced this combination of unbridled anger and mind numbing fear before—no, not even during the war. He replayed the last few hours in his head— the floo call, the way his very blood had chilled at McGonagall's terse report, his heart plummeting and his head spinning. Now, standing here in the familiar Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, Draco abruptly decided that no, he had _never_ been this angry.

Ever.

For once, his brash, thoughtless brat of a boy was going to answer for it.

"A bet," he repeated blandly. His voice was chilly—masking his seething fury in a parody on nonchalant conversation that fooled nobody. His fourteen year old seemed to shrink before his withering gaze. He curled into the narrow hospital bed as if fighting the urge to hide under the covers.

Not a chance. Draco wasn't giving him any quarter today. This was why _he_ was the one to come rushing to Hogwarts when the floo-call had come from McGonagall. Harry was borderline hysterical and halfway through the floo but in the end, Draco had managed to talk him into staying back somehow.

He intended to handle this one on his own and he had his reasons for it.

James had a...way with Harry. Perhaps it was because he was their first born. Perhaps it was because he was a Gryffindor and they were, in some ways almost the same person. Perhaps they had bonded over their shared love for those abysmal Canons; Draco didn't know and he didn't care. The fact remained that Harry had a bit of a blind spot where their eldest was concerned.

James' recklessness was _just a bit of fun, Draco_. The trouble he caused? _I'm told my father was the same way._ The sheer mayhem that followed the boy around was dismissed and shrugged off. _He's like his grandfather. He's just_ _like Sirius. He's just a kid, Draco. You worry too much._

Enough was enough. This incident was the last straw as far as Draco was concerned. He loved his children dearly but he wasn't blind to their faults.

Albus cheated to get an upper hand. Lily had a temper. Scorpius was impatient and lacked follow through when he didn't see immediate results. And James...James was a reckless, _foolish_ boy who acted first, considered consequences later— if at all.

When Draco thought about what might have happened today...he didn't even want to say it. Just thinking about it made his heart hammer in his chest again, well on the way to another panic attack. No, he was done with that spiel. His son was in _serious_ trouble and he wasn't going to play the Gryffindor card. Not this time. Not with Draco.

When he spoke again, his voice was a low, livid hiss. "You mean to tell me that you put your family through four hours of sheer hell because of a bet with a_classmate_?"

James cringed and swiped a shaky hand over his face. He hadn't said much since Draco had arrived. Actually, he hadn't even looked at his father once during his mumbled explanation, choosing instead to address his sheets. Draco had a feeling that the gravity of the situation was sinking in. Good. He wasn't letting the boy off the hook that easily though. "Answer me, James," he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.

James took his time. "It wasn't supposed to go wrong," he whispered. "I've done the Wronski Feint before."

Draco took a deep breath and focused on a bottle of Skele-Gro set out on the table. _No yelling_, he reminded himself firmly. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't do that. He was here to teach James a lesson, not traumatise him. So he schooled his expression and turned back to his son again. "You do realise you're not helping your case, don't you?"

James bunched the sheet in his hands, looking agitated and a bit panicky. Draco could almost see him working things out in his head, trying to find a reason, a decent excuse for what he had done. "It was the first match of the season," he blurted finally, his voice trembling a fraction. "I...I didn't want to lose."

_Not bloody good enough._

"Well, you'll be happy to know you didn't," Draco replied coolly. "When you fell off your broom— a good twenty feet, by the way— Albus dove and tried to catch you. Of course by the time he made it to your side, you were in a hole in the ground with shattered ribs and a dislocated shoulder, but that's hardly important. Rest assured, he didn't catch the snitch so really, there's _nothing_ to worry about."

A bit harsh perhaps, but it got the job done. James flinched and his grip on the sheets tightened. "Father, please..."

"He was here for hours before you finally woke up," Draco added relentlessly. It hurt him to do this but it was long overdue. Twenty feet, that was all he could think of. Twenty _fucking_ feet. "He missed all his classes today— Scorpius and Lily, too. They all seem to think it's a big deal for some reason but of course, you know better don't you, James?"

"I didn't...I'm sorry, Father. Please..."

"Perhaps, I shouldn't even mention what Dad and I went through when we were informed our _son_ was lying unconscious in the Hospital Wing. It's hardly important. Just a minor inconvenience to you, I'm sure..."

"Stop!"

Draco halted his tirade.

There it was. That was what he had been looking for— an undertone of remorse in that anguished, trembling plea. Draco remained silent as James looked up at him, shaking violently. Despite his anger, his heart ached at the sight.

James looked like a little boy just then, with his messy hair and his eyes glistening with unshed tears— just like that time when he was six and had tripped and scraped his knee, when he hadn't thought twice about running to Draco, wanting him to make it better. He managed a hitched sob and dropped his gaze, apparently unable to look Draco in the eye anymore.

"I'm _sorry_," he managed.

Draco's anger evaporated with those two words. He knew James meant it. He knew James was sorry, that he was terrified of what could have come to pass and he knew that all James wanted right now was to be held and told it was okay. That Father loved him and forgave him and he would take care of it. He just didn't know how to ask for it. He didn't know if Draco would do that for him after what he'd put his family through.

Draco's shoulders sagged as the last of his ire deflated. He approached the bed and his eyes softened as James shrank back, apparently expecting more harsh words. But Draco was done. He had made his point, loud and clear. What he needed to do now was take care of his son.  
>So he seated himself next to James and lifted a gentle hand to trace his cheek. Thankfully, James didn't flinch from his touch. "Look at me," Draco ordered quietly.<p>

Teary, brown eyes stared up at him, tentative and scared. Draco's throat clenched painfully. "Son," he whispered gently. "_What_ would I have done if something had happened to you?"

And just like that, the dam broke. James made a choked sound in his throat as he tried to stifle a sob, and then his shoulders were shaking violently and he was crying like the world has fallen to pieces around him.

Draco gathered him up at once, holding him close. James held on with a death grip, anchoring himself to Draco as the tears flowed on and on.

"I'm s-sorry," he stuttered through his sobs. "So sorry, F-father. I d-didn't mean to..."

"Shh," Draco soothed, stroking his son's hair gently. "It's okay. Everything's alright now, James. I promise." His fingers ran through those brown locks as he spoke, gentle and reassuring. The motion was calming, like a balm for the ache in his heart. James was okay. James was safe. He was in Draco's arms and he was going to be _fine_.

"My stupid, reckless boy," Draco whispered fervently, holding him close but carefully— mindful of James' injuries. "Thank Merlin you're safe."

James just tightened his grip and burrowed into his robes, letting Draco cradle him like an infant. That— more than anything— was a testament to how frightened he must be. For all that Gryffindor bravado, he was barely fourteen. He couldn't possibly be alright after what he had just been through.

"Why did you do it?" Draco asked once James had calmed down a bit. "Why on earth would you make such a stupid wager?"

James stirred sleepily in his arms— slack and exhausted from his emotional outburst— but he didn't answer. Draco jostled him gently. They needed to talk about this. "James, answer me please."

James hid in his shoulder again. His voice was small when he finally spoke. "Connor s-said...he said Dad would have done it. He said Dad would've taken the bet."

Draco bit his tongue, halting a forthcoming rant on how Dad had also fought an army of Dementors and flown circles around a dragon and would James like to take a crack at those while he was at it. Instead he took a measured tone, still petting his son gently as he spoke.

"I'll admit your Dad has pulled a few stunts in his time," he conceded, because honestly that _was_ a fair point. "But only because he had to. There is a world of difference between taking a chance because there is no other choice and doing something stupid just because. I'd like to think we taught you better than that."

"I wanted Dad to be p-proud of me."

"He is proud of you. He was proud of you _before_ you pulled this stupid stunt. And he was terrified for you today."

"I'm sorry..."

"I know," Draco cut in gently. "I know you are. But that's not going to cut it this time. You scared your brothers and sister to death and you put your parents through the wringer. I'm afraid an apology is simply not enough. You owe this family more than that."

"What should I do?" James asked shakily.

Draco tightened his grip reassuringly, but his next words were resolute. "For one thing, I've asked your Head of House to take you off the Quidditch team."

"What?" James sat up and stared at him, eyes wide with shock. "But Father..."

"You're not flying again this year," Draco informed him firmly. "This is about trust and quite honestly, I don't trust you not to put yourself in a similar situation again. I'd rather take your broom away than deal with something like this again. And yes, I did mean that literally. I _will_ be taking your broom away and no, you may not ask Dad to send it back. He agrees with me on this one."

James looked like he might cry again. "Father, please," he whimpered. "I _can't_ sit out the rest of the season. Please, just give me one more chance. I'll do better, I swear. Please, don't..."

"I'm sorry." Draco sighed softly and pulled James into his arms again. "I know it's hard Jamie, but actions have consequences and unfortunately Dad and I have let yours slide for too long. This needs to happen and you know it."

James sniffed but he didn't pull away or make any more protests. "Guess I deserve it," he mumbled.

Draco smiled and ruffled his hair reassuringly. "We'll reconsider letting you join back next year," he offered.

"Promise?"

"I promise we'll think about it."

James nodded his acquiescence and settled back in Draco's shoulder. He felt small in Draco's arms all of a sudden— young and frail with his bandaged ribs and a bruise under his eye. Draco tightened his grip as a surge of protectiveness threatened to overwhelm him.

"You will _never_ do something like this again," he ordered, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Promise me."

"I promise," James said without a moment's hesitation. He lifted his head to look at Draco uncertainly. "Are you still angry, Father?"

"Yes," Draco replied flatly. James whimpered pitifully, tearing up again. Draco sighed in defeat and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But it will pass."

Clearly, Harry wasn't the only one who had trouble saying _no_ to James. He really should work on that...

"Thank you for coming, Father," James mumbled quietly into his chest. "I'm glad you're here."

...and apparently, it was never going to happen. Draco smiled and ruffled his hair gently. "I will always be there for you," he promised. "Even if you are the most infuriating child I have ever come across. And I knew your Dad when he was your age so that is saying something."

James grinned impishly and curled into Draco's embrace again. "Love you too," he replied, stifling a yawn. "Will you be leaving soon?"

Draco went back to carding his hair, coaxing him back on the bed. "Soon," he replied. "I should let Dad know you're alright. But I'll stay for a while if you want."

James yawned again and closed his eyes, one hand reaching up to wrap itself in Draco's robes. "Kay," he mumbled sleepily. "Jus' for a little while..."

Draco suppressed a smirk and stayed put, waiting until James was fast asleep. Then he disentangled himself, pressed a kiss to the child's forehead and took his leave.

It had been a really trying day, but he was strangely content. Being a parent is tough even at the best of times— it's Chapter One of the all purpose manual no one ever gives you. But he had a feeling he'd done okay by James. His boy would be alright. And if he wasn't...well, Draco would be there. He would _always _be there.

He was still taking that wretched broomstick though.

If James could stay out of the sodding Hospital Wing for the rest of the year, he could have it back by Christmas.

That was as far as Draco was willing to go on the subject.


	115. Veritaserum Drunk

**How did I forget to post this? Written for a challenge on LJ with the prompt: Sometimes, one smile means more than a dozen roses.**

**Featuring Blaise Zabini in all his glory. Also, drunk!Draco and shining knight!Harry.**

**Inspired by a recent episode of How I Met Your Mother. The theme and some dialogues have been lifted, I take no credit for them.**

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><p>Blaise raced into the restaurant, skidding in an effort to avoid bumping into an exiting couple. He nodded his apologies and hurried on, ignoring the maître d. Finally, he caught sight of Pansy's distinctive black bob in a little nook on the far right and made his way over.<p>

His fellow Slytherins didn't even acknowledge his presence— something Blaise would normally take offence at. On the other hand, he had been informed that these were extenuating circumstances.

"Yep," Draco mumbled, nodding placidly and edging his wine glass towards Theo. "Bu' not when he was Minister ov Magic."

There was a round of appreciative gasps and giggles. Theo smirked and gamely topped off his friend's glass. Draco favoured him with a dopey smile and took a swig. Blaise cleared his throat and they turned to him.

"You made it," Adrian grinned, gesturing for him to sit.

Blaise shrugged. "Well, you did say and I quote— 'Blaise, you'll regret every breath you ever take from this moment on if you don't come down and see this'— unquote."

"Ay, Blaise's here!" Draco piped up happily. Blaise only stiffened a bit as Draco reached out to pat him on the head. He miscalculated and ended up swiping Blaise's face instead. "I like Blaise," he informed a still grinning Theo. "Nice bloke. Even...even if he's not _real_ Italian."

Blaise's jaw dropped. "I _am_ a real Italian, thank you very much!" he snapped indignantly. "I am!" he protested as the rest of the table fixed him with unconvinced glances. "I'll have you know my family can trace its roots back to sixteenth century Sicily when..."

"Nope," Draco corrected, waggling a finger in his face. "You jus' say that 'cause ya think it sounds cool. Yer dad's from Wiltshire."

Blaise scowled at the traitor. "I told you that in the strictest of confidence!" he spat.

"Oh don't get mad at him, darling," Pansy smirked. "He's just veritaserum drunk."

"You _drugged_ him?"

"Of course not," Adrian sniffed. "He did this all by himself."

Blaise was still confused and Draco was absolutely no help, having decided to forego conversation in order to chase a tomato around his plate with a fork. Theo— ever the smooth voice of reason— stepped in with an explanation. "What Adrian means is that Draco had, well shall we say a _bit_ more to drink than is advisable. As a result, he's somewhat..."

"Hammered, sloshed, utterly wasted," Pansy chirped cheerfully. Her eyes glinted with anticipation. "And here's the fun part— he's so far out, he's having trouble keeping up appearances. You could ask him anything in the world and he'd tell the truth. Blaise," she lowered her voice to a conspiring whisper and leaned in with a cat like grin. "Draco can't lie!"

There was silence. Blaise gaped, the others smirked and Draco hummed happily, apparently oblivious of the situation he had put himself in. "He can't lie," Blaise clarified, because really wasn't _that_ something. "He's so drunk he'll tell the truth, no matter what?"

"Anything," Theo replied. "Think about it, Blaise. We can finally ask him _all_ those questions he's skilfully danced around for years. Just think of the possibilities here!"

"It sounds a lot like taking advantage," Blaise replied uncertainly. "Besides, I don't think he's really drunk. He _couldn't_ be that far gone. This is Draco we're talking about."

"Go on and try it," Pansy prodded confidently.

It was definitely worth a shot.

"Very well," Blaise conceded. He cleared his throat and turned to his friend. "Draco?"

"Ay, Blaise's here! Blaise's great. Even if he's not..."

"Yes, we covered that," Blaise cut in hastily. "Would you mind clarifying something for me? Is your favourite quotation still that one by Machiavelli— _the end justifies the means_?"

Draco made a face. "Don' like that one," he replied firmly. "My _favourite_ quote thingy is _sometimes one smile means more than a dozen roses._"

The other Slytherins burst into laughter. Blaise nodded decisively and leaned back in his chair. "He's hammered, all right." He wasn't very happy about this but needs must. They _were_ Slytherins after all, and it was quite the opportunity.

"My turn," Pansy grinned happily. "Draco, did you really lose your virginity to Viktor Krum in fourth year?"

"Cormac McLaggen, fifth year," Draco supplied. "He's gotta tiny willy."

More giggles and then Theo stepped in. "How much money do you make at the International Affairs Department?" He passed a quill to Draco who obediently scribbled a shaky figure on the tablecloth. Pansy leaned over and gasped.

"_That_ much?" she shrilled. "You made me foot the bill for drinks last time, you prat! Why should I have to pay when you can bloody well afford it?"

"Pansy, you do realise you're starting to sound like a prostitute?" Adrian pointed out helpfully.

"Yer not a prostitute," Draco said, patting her hand.

"No, a prostitute would be cheaper," Theo observed.

"Depends on th' prostitute," Draco supplied.

"Oh, be quiet," Pansy grumbled. "This isn't fun anymore."

"I wouldn't say that," Theo grinned. "There's potential for entertainment. So Draco, mate. Can you tell me who you've been mooning over for the past four months? I know there's someone. But I'd love to know the identity of the mystery man who captured your heart."

"Hang on," Blaise began to protest but Draco beat him to it.

"Potter," he mumbled, gazing at Theo with wide, guileless eyes. "But I don' think he likes me back."

"I see," Theo replied smoothly, patting his shoulder. "Well, why don't you ask him then? He's right over there."

Blaise whirled around to follow the trail of Theo's finger. Sure enough, Potter was standing by the entrance, apparently requesting a table. Blaise scowled. Having fun was one thing but this was going a bit too far. He had little doubt that Theo already knew Draco had a thing for Potter. He must have noticed Potter and he'd sensed an opportunity to have a laugh at Draco's expense. Blaise however, was drawing the line. Draco was his best friend, for Merlin's sake.

"You need to stop," he whispered to Theo. "What if Potter laughs at him?"

Theo shrugged. "He'll survive. Besides, he should have thought about that before refusing to invest in my business venture in Mexico."

So that was what this was about. Petty revenge. Blaise glared but Theo was already back in action. "I'll just call him over for you, shall I?" he asked Draco sweetly.

Draco nodded like a lost puppy and Theo called out to the man by the entrance.

"Potter! Fancy seeing you here. Come over a second, will you?"

Potter cocked his head curiously, looking over the small company. He caught sight of Draco and the hint of a smile played on his lips. Blaise's gut clenched uncomfortably as Potter made his way over.

"Well, this is a surprise," he said, nodding in greeting. "How are you, Malfoy?"

Draco blinked dazedly at him before mumbling a greeting and fiddling with the tablecloth. His cheeks were flushed and he looked uncharacteristically bashful. He was obviously uncomfortable.

"So nice to see you, Potter. Draco just _had_ to talk to you tonight," Pansy prodded with a sharp grin. "He's been going on about you all night."

"Oh?" Potter smiled at Draco again. "Anything in particular?"

"It can wait," Blaise replied firmly before Draco could speak. "It was nice seeing you, Potter but we really should..."

"Now, don't be rude Blaise," Theo tutted. "Draco _did_ have something to say to Potter. He just needs a moment to...collect himself."

Potter frowned at the small company, his eyes drifting from Draco to the other Slytherins. "Am I missing something here?" he asked. Draco mumbled again and Potter leaned over, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Draco mumbled. "I jus'...well..."

"It's all right," Potter cut in gently as Draco faltered. "You can tell me."

"I..."

"He can't lie."

Every head at the table whipped around to Blaise. Pansy scowled and Theo practically bared his teeth, but Blaise ignored them and focused on addressing Potter. "He's had a lot to drink," he explained quietly. "He's not exactly up to maintaining appearances right now." Potter's eyes glinted with sudden understanding. Encouraged, Blaise continued. "If you push him enough, he'll tell you the truth no matter what."

It was a gamble, but if he knew Potter at all...

"Let me guess," Potter gritted, sounding angry now. "You lot have been sitting here bombarding him with questions he wouldn't normally answer."

"Wouldn't you?" Adrian demanded.

"No, I bloody well would not," Potter snapped. "That's horrible. You're supposed to be his friends!" He scowled at them before turning his attention to a very lost Draco again. "Would you like me to take you home?" he asked softly, running a soothing hand down Draco's back.

Draco flushed, but he nodded slowly and took Potter's hand. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Potter, I jus'...just wanted to tell you..."

Potter placed a gentle finger on his lips to silence him. "You can tell me tomorrow when you're feeling better. Okay?"

"Okay," Draco mumbled quietly, settling in the crook of Potter's shoulder. Potter wrapped an arm around him, offered Blaise a terse nod and herded Draco off to safety. Blaise smirked and took a swig from his own glass, smugly ignoring the scowls around his table.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Pansy grumbled.

"Some Slytherin you turned out to be," Theo snapped at him.

Blaise's eyes glinted as he stared him down. "Let me tell you a little about Slytherins, Theo. We're smart, ambitious and opportunistic. We sense opportunity and take advantage. But there are rules even we abide by. Here's one. No matter what, we take care of our own."

Theo scowled but made no retort having recognized the subtle warning. Blaise leaned forward, the better to emphasize his barely there threat.

"The next time you try to mess with one of _my_ own, bring your A-game."

And with that last declaration, he smirked and leisurely poured himself another glass of wine. It was a good year. Besides, he would make certain that Theo footed the bill.

_Not a real Italian_.

Please.


	116. Quality Quidditch

**Written for an LJ Challenge with the prompts: **_**Gobstone, Quaffle, Appleby Arrows, Swivenhodge, Gryffindor, Muggle Sport, Fouls, Viktor Krum **_**and **_**Celebrations.**_

**Warnings for mature content: semi public sex, oral sex, absolutely not fit for minors. **

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><p>Harry walked down the narrow aisles of Quality Quidditch Supplies, raking his gaze across yet another rack of brooms.<p>

_State of the art, magically tested and highly endorsed flying equipment,_the myriad labels stated proudly_. _And yet, not one of them struck his fancy.

Truth be told, Harry would just as soon stick with his trusty Firebolt but after four years on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and another five with the Appleby Arrows, even he had to admit that it was time to retire his splintered, old friend. Plus the team had taken out a written petition after the Firebolt sort of...broke during the last practice.

"This isn't some nonsensical muggle sport, Potter," the captain had informed him haughtily. "You're playing a _wizard's _game now. Equipment is everything!"

And that was why Harry was stuck browsing through some of the finest brooms ever made and trying to find one that worked for him.

He had to admit they had some fancy features these days. The Cleansweep Mark Four was specially crafted to minimise flight drag. Unfortunately, it was too narrow and the balance was off. One brush with a Bludger and it would send him crashing. Nimbus had a whole new 3000 series and while he couldn't argue with the craftsmanship, it did require a hell of a lot of maintenance. Besides, he really didn't want a broom officially endorsed by Viktor Krum. Harry made a face at the thought.

He went back to his search, but without much hope. No, he'd already seen these ones. And those ones. _And_ the ones in the far left corner. Harry huffed. Seriously, wasn't there _one_ broom in here he could possibly work with? Was that too much to ask for?

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't even realise he had company until a snide voice broke the silence. "Why, Potter. You seem to be lost. If I recall correctly, the shop next door deals with Exploding Snap Cards and Gobstones."

Harry nearly dropped the Comet Limited Series Edition he was perusing. He looked up and scowled at his all too familiar companion. "Malfoy," he grumbled, as the blond sauntered over. "Apparently, this day just couldn't get worse on its own."

Malfoy smirked and rolled his eyes. "Because I'm just dying for your company, Potter," he retorted. "Anyway, if you need a professional's opinion, I'll be in the back."

Before Harry could respond to that, Malfoy was already walking away. Harry glared at his retreating back. He had little time to school his expression as the blond halted and turned around.

"Oh and by the way, I wouldn't pick that one," he added. "Not unless you're planning a riveting game of Swivenhodge with a bunch of First Years."

Malfoy turned away again, but he definitely had Harry's attention now.

"Hold on," Harry bit out. Malfoy turned to look at him enquiringly. Harry huffed in irritation and put the broom back on the shelf. "Go on then," he ordered shortly.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Harry's irritation spiked. "Your _job_, Malfoy," he elaborated. "I'm a customer and I need a broom. So get over here and help me find one."

Malfoy's lips twitched for a second but he obliged. "Very well," he acquiesced. "So give me a rundown on what you're looking for. I'll take it from there."

"I need something sturdy," Harry replied. "But also light. You know, something that won't drag with the lift off."

Malfoy nodded in agreement. "That sounds about right," he replied, brows drawing down in a quizzical frown as he regarded Harry. "Although with a lean build like yours, I wouldn't think drag would be a problem. I'd prioritise on balance if I were you."

Harry flushed slightly at Malfoy's off-hand comment about his body. He'd obviously meant it in a purely professional context but the idea that Malfoy had _noticed_...

Abruptly, he realised that Malfoy was talking to him.

"Sorry?" Harry blurted, snapping back to attention.

Malfoy looked like he wanted to roll his eyes again. Instead, he held out another broom for Harry to look at. "I said, the Twigger has a questionable reputation but you might want to look at the newer models. They're usually light and fairly good on the balance."

Harry nodded along but his eyes were fixed on Malfoy's fingers caressing the handle. He couldn't help but observe that Malfoy had a light grip. Light but strong. And firm. He had slim— almost delicate — fingers but he definitely knew how to handle that...broomstick. Harry swallowed abruptly and forced himself to look away.

"They warp at high speed," he said, trying to keep a slight tremor out of his voice. "That could get a bit... rough."

"Mm," Malfoy replied with a slight shrug. "I like it rough. But I suppose that's an acquired taste." His grey eyes flicked to Harry and a faint smirk pulled at his lips. Before Harry could make up his mind on whether Malfoy was yanking his chain or not, the blond was back raking through the shelves. Harry joined him in his search. Malfoy was doing all the work and Harry was...making double entendres in his head apparently. He shook his head and pulled out a random broom, mostly in an effort to distract himself.

"No," Malfoy stated firmly, taking it back at once. "That one was specifically designed for a Chaser's profile. Unless you're planning on tossing a Quafflefor the Arrows, that's not the broom for you." His fingers brushed against Harry's as he took the broom back and Harry could swear it was deliberate.

"You know I play Seeker for the Arrows?" he demanded. So Malfoy _was_ keeping tabs on him then. He _was_ watching...

Malfoy smirked. "I try to keep up. You lost to Puddlemere last time around, didn't you?"

"That was a rotten foul," Harry grumbled. He was still feeling rather touchy about it. And somehow, it rankled that Malfoy knew about that disastrous loss.

"Oh, I know," Malfoy agreed smoothly. "Avery plays a dirty game. I hear he was dismissed not long after. Puddlemere has a new Seeker now, yes?"

Harry shrugged. "There's a rumour going around, yeah. Avery's definitely gone but no official announcements on the new bloke yet."

"Afraid of a little competition?" Malfoy teased, his eyes sparking with challenge.

"I think you know the answer to that," Harry replied with a grin, inching a bit closer to Malfoy. They were definitely flirting now.

"Confident, are we?" Malfoy purred.

"Find me the right broom and I guarantee a stupendous win."

"And what's in it for me?"

Harry chuckled. "If I'm feeling generous, I'll make sure you're part of a very exclusive...celebration."

"You drive a hard bargain, Potter," Malfoy smirked. "But I accept. Here."

Harry just managed to catch the broomstick Malfoy tossed at him. "The Firebolt Mark Five," Malfoy rattled off with practiced ease. "Light, sturdy, fantastic balance and one of the smoothest rides you'll ever take." He grinned almost insolently at that last bit and sauntered over, brushing a hand against Harry's chest. "On a broom, that is."

Harry's blood surged. Okay, that was it. The cheeky little bugger was asking for it. He grabbed Malfoy's arm and dragged him to a nearby closet. Malfoy stumbled slightly as Harry pushed him through.

"You know Potter, people get fired for this," he pointed out. Harry growled and pulled him over again, licking and laving at Malfoy's neck as he did. Malfoy groaned and tipped his head, giving Harry silent permission to continue.

"Then again, I've done worse," he hissed as his hands fumbled with Harry's robes.

Harry shut him with a kiss, groaning into Malfoy's mouth as a nimble hand crept down and squeezed his cock through his boxers. "Off," Harry growled, bucking into him. Malfoy responded with a half growl, half purr that made his cock twitch desperately. Malfoy smirked and yanked Harry's boxers off, getting rid of his own pants a moment later.

The next second, Harry groaned as a lithe, pale body was pressed against his own. Damn, but Malfoy was fit. Toned and slender and lightly muscled in all the right places. He'd make a pretty decent Seeker himself with a body like that...

And then Malfoy's hand wrapped against his cock again and Harry growled in pleasure as a teasing, questing finger thumbed at his slit. He returned the favour at once and Malfoy hummed in approval as Harry started jerking him off.

It was over far too quickly but at least Malfoy came first. Blunt nails dug into Harry's shoulder as Malfoy keened softly and then he was jerking and arching into Harry's grip, coating Harry's fingers in his release. Malfoy staggered back against the wall to get his bearings, panting and staring at Harry— all dark grey eyes and flushed cheeks. And then his lips curled in a positively wicked grin and he dropped to his knees.

Harry bit back a moan as a talented mouth wrapped around his cock. His hands tightened into Malfoy's hair, angling him just so. Malfoy took him deeper and relaxed his throat as Harry thrust into his warm, wet mouth. Gods, he was good at this. Harry just barely kept himself from fucking Malfoy's throat with abandon but then Malfoy looked up at him and _moaned_ around his cock...Harry hissed at the spike of pleasure, pulsing and thrusting as he came undone in Malfoy's throat.

He groaned and staggered back against a wall, catching his breath. Malfoy stood up and wiped his mouth, eyes never straying from Harry. And damn it if he didn't find that fucking _hot_. Malfoy grinned and tossed him his robes before seeking out his own and dressing himself.

"Not bad, Potter," he said, sounding rather smug about the whole thing. "You never fail to surprise me."

"Likewise," Harry muttered. He managed a shaky laugh. "Maybe I should talk your boss into giving you a raise, eh?"

Malfoy turned back to him and cocked his head, a deceptively innocent expression flitting across his face.

"My...oh, dear _me_. I _do _believe you misunderstood, Potter." His lips curved into a deliciously wicked smile. "I don't work here."

Harry's grin faded and his jaw dropped. "What?"

Malfoy smirked and brushed past him. "Puddlemere wasn't my first choice but then I heard they were playing the Appleby Arrows this season." The smirk turned into an insolent grin. "I just couldn't say no."

Harry's head was reeling.

Bloody hell.

"I'll see you on the Pitch, Potter," Malfoy drawled as he sauntered off. "Oh, and between you and me? If you thought Avery plays dirty, well...you've not seen anything yet." One more smirk and he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Harry leaned against the wall again. That sneaky little bastard! His cock twitched at the memory of Malfoy's lips and tongue and throat. Harry groaned in dismay. How the bloody hell was he supposed to concentrate on his game with Malfoy all up in his head? He was doomed.

Then again, he _had_ promised Malfoy a private celebration if he won. Harry cocked his head, and a slight smile pulled at his lips as he considered that little detail. Of course, Malfoy would make him work for it but when had Harry ever backed down from a challenge?

He grinned. Oh, he could work with this. Given the incentive, he could _definitely_ work with this.

Harry straightened his robes and ventured out to purchase his new Firebolt Mark Five.

Let the games begin.

* * *

><p><strong>PS: Do check up Swivenhodge: it is absolutely awesome. Why is this not as famous as Quidditch?!<strong>


	117. Who Needs Marriage?

**Written for the Hogwarts365 Challenge on LJ.**

**Prompts: Gay wedding (picture prompt), Antonin Dolohov, First Order of the Phoenix, 'Take your best shot'.**

**Warnings for rare-pairs that may not be everyone's cup of tea. However, Harry/Draco is very much a pairing.**

* * *

><p>The ceremony was absolutely breathtaking.<p>

The chapel was gorgeous, the grooms were beaming and misty eyed guests smiled as the couple pronounced their vows.

"You may kiss the groom," the Minister announced, and applause broke out.

Sirius wrinkled his nose and took a swig from his glass. "There should be a law against this," he declared.

His companion stiffened and turned to glare balefully at him. "I hope you're not talking about gay marriage," Draco intoned frostily.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Of course not, you berk," he retorted. "I've got nothing against two blokes together. Hell, that's the way I swing. I'm talking about marriage— anyone getting married. It's a travesty."

Draco frowned at that. "Aren't you happy for your friend?"

"Hey, don't get me wrong. I love Kingsley. He's a mate. We fought together in the first Order. We even took on Antonin Dolohov once. I trust the man with my life. And Dean's a nice kid— maybe a bit young but they're good together. It's just this whole thing..." Sirius gestured at the happy couple. "It doesn't sit right with me. Trust me on this one, kid. Marriage kills a relationship."

"Oh," Draco muttered, fiddling with the tablecloth. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

Sirius cocked his head. "What's going on?" he demanded.

He didn't always get along with his cousin, but he would like to think that Draco would come to him if he needed someone to talk to.

Draco sighed and shook his head. "It's... I was hoping to talk to you about something. Something personal."

"I'm listening."

Draco looked nervous, but he took a deep breath and nodded at Sirius. "I wanted to ask your permission to propose to Harry."

Sirius blinked at him. "Um...what?" he managed.

Draco shrugged. "You're the closest thing he has to a father. We've been together a long time. He makes me happy. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. He's the one, Sirius. I want to be with him forever."

The room was starting to spin. Holy hell, he had _not_ seen this one coming. "Does Harry feel the same way?" he asked.

Draco smiled. "I think so."

"Oh."

Merlin, _how_ did he get himself in situations like this? One part of him wanted to take those stupid boys aside and demand an explanation as to why they had learnt absolutely nothing from him. They were so young and so damn good together. Why did they want to ruin it by getting married? But Draco was still watching him, anxious and clearly determined to see this through.

"Fine," Sirius sighed. "Take your best shot."

Draco lit up like a Christmas tree. "You're serious?" he grinned.

"That joke never gets old, does it?" Sirius grumbled. "Yes, you can marry my godson. But I'm warning you now— I am _not_ wearing fancy dress robes to your wedding."

Draco chuckled. "You've done enough. Thanks, cousin. I'll go find Harry."

"You're doing it _now?_"

Draco grinned and got up, looking like he had just won the Quidditch World Cup. "No time like the present. Wish me luck."

Sirius rolled his eyes as he watched him take off. "I was better off duelling Dolohov," he grumbled. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Draco taking Harry's hand and leading him to the gardens.

Bloody perfect...

"Is this seat taken?" Sirius blinked as Charlie Weasley smiled at him.

"Not in a mood to mingle?" Sirius asked as he pulled out a chair. He couldn't help but eye Charlie appreciatively. That dragon wrangling definitely paid off...

Charlie shrugged. "Well, I'm happy for Kingsley. But weddings just...they don't work for me, you know? I mean, who needs marriage?"

"Finally! Someone who speaks English. I was just saying the same thing. It's a..."

"Disaster waiting to happen?"

"Exactly!"

"Just awful."

"Bloody awful."

Charlie grinned at him. "Let me get you a drink," he said.

* * *

><p>Two years later, Sirius was wrestling on a set of fancy dress robes. The chapel was already crowded. His heart was pounding and he wondered if Charlie was nervous too.<p>

Sirius groaned.

He was _never_ going to live this down.

Draco was busy helping with the cuff links, his lips pressed together as he valiantly tried not to laugh. Sirius scowled and Draco cleared his throat meaningfully.

"So, congratula..."

"Not one word, cousin," Sirius growled. "Not. One. Word."


	118. Resolutions and Revelry

**A slightly late ficlet which should have gone up around New Years. The prompts were: Resolution, 'Happiness is celebrating the little things'.**

**Warnings: Semi public office sex, mature content, not fit for minors**

* * *

><p>"Malfoy?"<p>

Harry rapped at the door of Malfoy's office, frowning as there was no response. Finally, he shrugged and poked his head in. His fellow Auror wasn't around and Harry huffed in exasperation. They had to file these reports today if either one of them planned to go home this weekend.

Trust Malfoy to put a dent in his plans to sit around on his couch and do nothing all day…

Harry shook his head and tossed the file over on Malfoy's desk, intending to leave it there for the ponce to find. Unfortunately, his aim was slightly off. The file skittered over and dislodged a blue folder, sending it to the floor and scattering papers everywhere.

"Great," Harry muttered, bending down to clear up the mess. He retrieved some documents and crammed them in the folder, not particularly caring about organization at this point. When he was nearly done, he spotted an innocuous shred of parchment innocently fluttering by Malfoy's desk. That didn't look official…

Harry frowned and picked it up. His eyebrows immediately rose as he read the title headlining the parchment.

_New Year Resolutions_

Harry grinned to himself. Oh, now _this_ was fun. And just what was it that Malfoy intended to do in the coming year? He couldn't resist. Privacy be damned, Malfoy would do the exact same thing if he had half the chance. So Harry wasted no time in skimming through the list.

_Give up smoking. Filthy habit._

Well, that much was certainly true. Did Malfoy smoke? Harry couldn't really say that he'd noticed, but really Malfoy should know better. Those pretty, pink lips had no business wrapped around a cigarette. No Harry could think of much better uses for Malfoy's…

He cleared this throat and shuffled the parchment awkwardly. Right, moving on then…

_Spend less time at work and more with friends. Happiness is celebrating the little things._

Harry smiled. That was rather cute, actually. And Merlin knew Malfoy spent far too much time in the office. Perhaps Harry could take him out for a drink sometime, help him relax a bit. Still smiling, he carried on reading.

_Lose five kilos._

What? If Malfoy lost any more weight, he'd disappear. Right, skip the drink. He was taking Malfoy out to dinner if only for his health. Harry shook his head. What was next?

_Shag at work— preferably bent over my office desk._

Oh my…

Harry swallowed. The parchment fluttered from his limp fingers and a hot, furious blush crept up his neck. Bent over the…at _work?_ Merlin, but Malfoy was a cheeky little slag! Harry's opportunistic brain was only too happy to provide him with a very vivid visual. Malfoy naked and moaning and arching, flung over the desk like the file Harry had tossed not ten seconds ago…

Harry swallowed again.

He slumped against Malfoy's desk and tugged at his collar. Merlin, it was hot in here. Were the Cooling Charms not working? How did Malfoy spend so much time in this stuffy room?

He probably closed the door and took his shirt off. Harry certainly would. Oh yes, that's what Malfoy would do. Unbutton that prissy silk shirt and slip it off his pale body, running his hands over his chest and maybe brushing against a taut, pink nipple and…

Harry groaned and resisted the urge to palm his throbbing cock through his trousers.

Well. That escalated quickly. 

* * *

><p>Draco Vanished his empty coffee cup and strode into his office, stopping short and arching a brow as he realised it was already occupied.<p>

"Potter," he greeted his fellow Auror with a terse nod. "What brings you here?"

Potter said nothing and Draco frowned as he realised the man looked a bit…off. His jaw was clenched and his hands were clenched into fists. He was looking right at Draco, his gaze unwavering and relentless. Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to recall if he had done something to displease Potter. Had he put lacewing powder in Potter's tea today?

No, that was usually Tuesday…

"Is something wrong?" he asked finally.

Potter took a step towards him. Draco faltered and backed away, dropping his files in the process. Potter stepped over them and strode over, crowding into Draco's space and pressing him against the closed door.

"Potter, what…"

"You little tease," Potter bit out, leaning in so their faces were about an inch apart. Draco swallowed audibly.

"I don't under…"

"You left it there for me to find, didn't you?" Potter asked.

"Left what? What are you…"

Potter was in no mood for chit chat. His hands clamped around Draco's shoulders as he pressed into him. Draco gasped and his eyes fluttered as he noted the tell-tale bulge brushing his thigh. Oh _Merlin…_

"P-potter, what's going…"

"Shut up."

Draco shut up. But when Potter leaned in to gently lick the shell of his ear, a soft moan escaped him. Potter's low, husky voice brushed his ear again, making him shiver.

"Think you're clever, Malfoy? Leaving that filthy little note just lying around like that? Trying to drive me crazy, like you always do? Well congratulations, you succeeded. And now I'm going to bring that little fantasy of yours to life."

Draco had half a mind to ask what the hell Potter was going on about, but that last bit about having Potter make his fantasies come to life held promise. So he staved off the questions and looked up at Potter with dark, sultry eyes. "What are you going to do with me?" he asked.

Potter smirked. "Strip."

Draco's eyes widened and he sputtered, simply appalled that Potter had decided to do this here and now. At _work. _Then again, the idea was oddly titillating and Potter didn't look like he was going to back down. A shiver went down Draco's spine and he bit his lip as he fingered the clasp of his cloak.

It slipped to the floor and Potter's eyes tracked the movement. Draco bit back a moan and hurried the process, slipping out of his shoes and socks and shucking his shirt and trousers off. Potter's eyes drifted over to his pants and he licked his lips. Draco moaned. He could _feel_ his cock hardening under such blatant observation.

"Get over here," Potter hissed. "Before I change my mind and take you on the floor."

Draco managed to make his shaky way over, casting a cautious look at the door. Hopefully, the Locking and Silencing Charms would hold. Potter certainly didn't care. His hand all but clamped around Draco's arm as soon as he was within groping distance and he herded him over. Draco slammed right into Potter's hard chest and then immediately moaned as soft, chapped lips attached themselves to his neck. He tipped his head back, giving Potter something to work with. His efforts were certainly appreciated, if Potter's growl of approval was anything to go by.

Potter wasn't holding back. His hands moved to Draco's arse, groping shamelessly as he licked and sucked and nipped at pale skin, undoubtedly raising a mark. Draco was done being passive himself. He hooked a leg around Potter and frotted against him, smirking as he drew a hiss out of the man. Potter responded by pinching a nipple and Draco bit his shoulder in retaliation. Potter growled and shrugged out of his robes, one hand busily fumbling with his belt and trousers.

"Bend over," he ordered shortly. Draco was only too happy to comply. He draped himself over the desk, hissing when he felt Potter's hands stroking over his back and arse with complete ownership. "Now, Malfoy," he growled and Draco just heard the barest whisper of a Lubrication Charm. "I'm going to shag you, right over this desk and you are going to fucking love it."

Well, no arguments there. Draco groaned as Potter slipped a finger inside him. Damn, but the man was working him good. Draco thrust against Potter's fingers, hissing in delight as Potter obliged with a second finger almost immediately. They worked in tandem, scissoring inside him and stretching him. Draco whimpered fretfully and bucked, wanting, needing…

"Brace yourself," Potter advised. Draco whimpered and scrabbled to hold on to the desk, his fingernails gripping and no doubt leaving scratches in the wood.

Potter struck without further warning. His hand gripped Draco's hip for leverage and then a thick, unmistakable, fucking gorgeous length was spearing him, thrusting inside him. Draco gasped and arched back and Potter took the opportunity to grip him by the jaw, holding him back as he started his thrusting.

Oh, but it was _brilliant_…

Draco groaned and bucked against Potter's brutal thrusts, revelling in the sensation of the man's strong thighs slapping against his own. He whined and bucked again, wordlessly demanding some more attention to his needs. Potter got the message and tested another angle, thrusting experimentally.

Oh _yes._

Draco gasped and nearly arched himself off Potter's cock. Potter chuckled and pounded him again, taking care to brush against that sensitive knot. "Like that, do you?" he panted. "You like being spread out over your desk and fucked like this?"

Draco responded with a hiss that might have been _yes _or _please, _and Merlin knew he didn't give a flying fuck anymore. Just as long as Potter kept fucking him and hitting _that_ spot and never stopping, the world could fall to pieces around him and he wouldn't notice.

"Filthy. Little. Slag," Potter snarled, punctuating each word with a thrust. "You're going to feel this for days. That'll teach you to taunt me."

And he _still_ had no idea what Potter was going on about but honestly at this point, Draco really shouldn't be expected to give a shite. So he just bucked his hips, gasping and moaning his pleasure. "Oh Merlin, _Potter_…"

"Fuck, Draco..."

Potter faltered a bit and Draco knew he was close. He groaned and wrapped a hand around his cock, wanking furiously. Moans and gasps escaped him at the all too familiar build up, coiling inside him and then Draco arched and screamed as he came, spurting over his desk. He would have slipped to the floor, boneless and sated if Potter hadn't wrapped an arm around him. Despite the haze of pleasure clouding coherent thought, Draco hissed as Potter thrust inside him one more time before shuddering and clamping his hands into Draco's thighs, climaxing with a low growl. 

* * *

><p>Harry groaned and struggled to get his bearings. It took all of his shredded will but he managed to pull out of Draco and hoist the blond up comfortably as they slid to the floor. Draco purred and curled against him. Harry managed a weak chuckle and nuzzled against him, swiping his damp fringe out of his eyes. Draco blinked sleepily at him and then his lips stretched in a smirk.<p>

"That was interesting," he murmured, curling into the crook of Harry's neck again.

"Yeah?" Harry grinned, holding him carefully. As much fun as it was to shag Malfoy into oblivion, cuddling like this wasn't so terrible either. He could definitely get used to this. "At least that's one thing you can strike off your list."

Malfoy raised his head and frowned. "What list?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "Your Resolutions list. The one in the blue folder."

"What folder? I finished my filing yesterday."

Harry gaped at him. "That wasn't your…you didn't leave that out for me to…then whose list was that?!"

"There was a list then?" Draco yawned and shrugged. "I was wondering what you were yammering about that whole time."

"But…why didn't you say something?" Harry sputtered incredulously.

Draco grinned shamelessly at him. "I was a bit…preoccupied," he whispered, nipping gently at Harry's earlobe. "Now, do you want to take the rest of the day off and finish this at my flat or would you rather sit here and fret about your stupid list?"

Harry took all of two seconds to make a decision. He grinned and helped Draco up, tossing his discarded clothes over.

Some mysteries, Harry could live with. 

* * *

><p>Auror Robards frowned as he passed by Kingsley Shacklebolt's office, only to see the Head Auror shuffling agitatedly through his files.<p>

"Problem, sir?" Robards asked.

Kingsley looked up and frowned. "Indeed, Robards. I seem to have misplaced a blue folder. I could have sworn I had it here. You wouldn't happen to have come across it by any chance, would you?"

Robards shrugged regretfully. "Not to my recollection, sir. Although I've lost a few files myself. The filing system has gone to the crups."

Kingsley sighed and abandoned his search. "A shame. There were a few things in there I planned to…look up."

"Is there anything I can do to offer assistance, sir?"

Kingsley's brow furrowed. For a second, Robards could have sworn his boss gave him the once-over. Then Kingsley grinned and leaned back against his chair.

"Perhaps you can," he replied. "Step into my office, Robards."


	119. The Great Escape

**Written for the hdotp meme on LJ. The prompt was: Harry Blanket/ Harry smushing Draco in his sleep *giggle fit***

**Anyhoo, this will also have a follow up which I'll post tomorrow.**

**In other news, I'll be coming out with a long fic soon in case anyone's interested. That should be up by next week. Stay tuned, wonderful readers. I needs your love!**

* * *

><p>It was nearly midnight. There was not a sound in the bedroom save for the soft ticking of the alarm clock on his bedside table. Draco stared at the ceiling, quiet as a church mouse while he waited for Harry's breathing to deepen.<p>

His boyfriend nuzzled into his neck with a contented sigh and his hold on Draco's waist tightened reflexively. Then he fell still and Draco heaved a sigh of relief.

_Finally_.

Harry was asleep.

It wasn't that Draco didn't appreciate Harry's...attentions. He hadn't been raised in the most affectionate household and as much as he disliked admitting to it, Draco rather enjoyed being kissed and fussed over and made much of. Harry was frank and uninhibited in his appreciation and had no trouble showing it— whether in public or in the privacy of their bedroom. Draco liked it, he really did.

That being said, it was midnight and Draco was trapped under his sleeping, _heavy_ boyfriend with an arm tucked firmly around him and a muscular leg pinning him in place. Harry nuzzled at his neck, making contented purring noises all the while and Draco groaned in dismay.

Right. If he wanted a night of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep, he was going to have to be very careful and very, _very_ quiet. So Draco took a few more minutes to centre himself and to make sure Harry was still asleep. Then he got to work.

Harry had a firm grip and he sure as hell didn't want to let go, but slowly and surely Draco was able to coax him into moving his arm. He heaved a sigh of relief as he wriggled out of Harry's grip, only to find that the rest of him was still trapped under his boyfriend's leg. Draco huffed irritation and resumed his squirming. Harry mumbled belligerently and he stiffened in alarm. But Harry just curled into his pillow and snored.

Thank Merlin...

It took a while, but finally Draco was able to extricate himself. One more twist and then he edged away from Harry and flopped back on his pillows with a grin, revelling in his freedom. Oh, it was glorious. He could breathe and move again and Draco had never been so grateful for the simple things.

He threw his arm out, still caught up in the heady rush of liberation...

...and knocked the alarm clock over.

The thrice damned thing fell with a loud crash and Harry's eyes snapped open. He got up and looked around with sleepy, bleary eyes.

"Whassamatter?" he demanded, his voice gruff with sleep.

_Damn it!_

"Nothing," Draco soothed, stroking Harry's hair and pushing him back on the bed. He had to fight to keep a frantic note out of his voice. "Go to sleep, Harry. It's okay..."

Harry hummed in acquiescence and settled down. Then his brow furrowed as he realised that Draco was on the other side of the bed. "What're you doin' there?" he mumbled, reaching out and grabbing Draco's arm to pull him over. "Get over here."

Draco groaned inwardly and tried to reason with him. If there was even a chance Harry would just go back to sleep without manhandling him again, he would take it. "I'm right here," he murmured hastily. "Go to sleep, Harry. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just..."

"Draco." Harry was scowling stubbornly and his tone brooked no argument. "Come _here._"

Draco sighed in defeat and sidled over. Harry hummed happily and settled down again. His arm wrapped around Draco in a death grip and his head rested on Draco's chest. "Better," he mumbled approvingly. "Sleep now."

"Yes, Harry," Draco muttered. Harry petted his hair and pressed an affectionate kiss to his nipple. Draco hissed as Harry's tongue accidentally brushed the sensitive bud, making his cock jerk in eager anticipation.

But Harry was already snoring again, deep in sleep.

Brilliant.

Draco gave up and closed his eyes, making himself as comfortable as possible. Well, tomorrow was another day. Sooner or later he _would_ free himself and get a good night's sleep; he would see to it that he did. Harry growled as if sensing his rebellious thoughts and swung a leg over him again.

Draco sighed.

Then again, maybe not.


	120. The Great Escape 2

**Sequel to The Great Escape (Chapter 119 of this series) where Harry makes it up to Draco.**

**Warnings for Oral Sex and mature content.**

* * *

><p>Harry was confused. This by itself wasn't a very worrisome state of affairs because Harry was almost always confused when it came to his moody boyfriend. But for some reason, things felt different this time. Draco had been snarky and snappish all day and Harry just had this hunch that <em>he<em> was somehow responsible.

That being said, he couldn't think of a single thing he could have done to send Draco into such a strop. He had been perfectly fine last night. In fact as Harry recalled, Draco had been very amenable last night. They had kissed and shagged and kissed again and gone to bed with dopey, sated smiles on their faces. Harry felt brilliant—rested and refreshed. So, why had Draco woken up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed?

"Okay, I'll just come out and ask," Harry finally declared. "What did I do?"

"You know perfectly well what you did," Draco grumbled, rubbing his eyes viciously.

Harry frowned. Obviously, lack of sleep wasn't doing wonders for Draco's mood. "Maybe you should go to bed," he suggested helpfully.

Draco glared daggers at him. "Oh, you would _love_ that, wouldn't you?"

None of this was making sense to him and Harry would very much have liked to figure it out, but Draco was obviously in no mood to talk. "I'm just saying a nap will do you good," he coaxed gently. "You look knackered, love."

"And whose fault is _that?_" Draco practically snarled at him.

Harry blinked. "I...sense that you're implying it's mine but I don't really see how?"

"Is that right?" Draco sneered. "Well, allow me to enlighten you then. It _is_ your fault that I look and feel like complete shite today because _you_ used me as a bloody pillow all night!"

What?

"What?" Harry blurted. "But...but why didn't you just push me off or move away or something?"

"I tried! You snuggled me into submission, you brute!"

Oh. Harry pursed his lips to hide a grin. He really shouldn't be amused by this. Poor Draco had obviously had a rough night. But really, how could he _not_ find it funny?

"And now you're laughing!" Draco shrilled indignantly.

"I'm not!" Harry protested, grabbing him by the shoulders before he could storm off in a strop. "I'm not, love. I swear. I'm just...I'm _so_sorry. I didn't mean to...er, inconvenience you like that. Please forgive me?"

Draco huffed and turned his face away, sniffing disdainfully when Harry kissed his cheek. But he did lean against Harry, just a bit. Harry smiled into Draco's neck as he continued his ministrations, kissing his way down Draco's throat. "Poor thing," he cooed between kisses. "You must be exhausted."

"I didn't sleep a wink all night," Draco confirmed sulkily, tipping his head back to give Harry better access to his neck.

"That's awful," Harry murmured as sincerely as he possibly could. He bit his lip to stifle another chuckle and pulled Draco into his arms. "Merlin, I feel like such an arse."

"You should," Draco replied. "And that's not all you did either."

"What else did I do?"

"You... got me all hot and bothered and then you fell asleep again."

Harry winced. Clearly, he had a lot of making up to do. Well, no time like the present. "Come on," he said, helping Draco up. "Let's get you to bed."

"Not sleepy," Draco muttered sullenly, clearly intent on being difficult.

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed him towards the bedroom. "You will be when I'm through with you," he promised.

Draco followed without any more protests.

* * *

><p>"Harry...oh Merlin...please, just... <em>Harry<em>..."

Draco's breathy gasps quickened and moans spilt from his lips as Harry sucked gently at the head of his cock. Draco whined and his hands tightened into Harry's hair, pushing him further. Harry obliged and took Draco in his throat in one fluid motion.

His throat clenched around Draco's hard, slick length and that was it. Draco thrust into his throat, arching and moaning as his climax hit. He flopped back on the bed, panting like he'd just run a marathon. Harry swallowed around Draco's softening cock, drawing another hiss from him. Draco whined in weak protest and Harry released him, crawling his way up to kiss Draco's lips.

"All better now?" he asked, his voice still hoarse from his exertions. Draco looked up at him and his sleepy, sated expression said it all. Harry chuckled fondly and kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep," he ordered, pulling the blankets over Draco and tucking him in.

"What about you?" Draco demanded, even as he curled up with a grateful sigh.

"Later," Harry replied firmly, settling down beside him. "But first, you're taking a nap. You can barely keep your eyes open." He moved to put his arm around Draco and pull him over before remembering that that was precisely the sort of thing that had kept Draco up last night.

Right, none of that.

Harry sighed regretfully and ruffled Draco's hair instead. "I'll be right here," he murmured, shifting back a bit. "On my side of the bed. You just get your rest, okay?"

His eyes widened in surprise when Draco kicked the blankets off and sidled over, settling into Harry's shoulder with a contented sigh. His arm wrapped around Harry's waist as he snuggled in. Harry blinked down at the blond head nestled against him, absolutely flummoxed.

"Um, Draco? I thought..."

"Say one word and I'll hex you into next week," Draco informed him. He closed his eyes and in seconds, he was fast asleep.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Harry grinned. There was no response from Draco save for a contented hum, so Harry kissed his forehead and settled down beside him. In no time at all he was asleep as well, with Draco curled up securely in his arms.


	121. Draco's Defender

**Written for the Hogwarts365 challenge on LJ. The prompt was drunk!Harry. Of course, I wrote it. Of _course_ I did.**

* * *

><p>Honestly, it was starting to get annoying. Draco sighed in exasperation as he was picked up mid conversation <em>again<em> and hauled up against a toned chest.

"For Merlin's sake!" he protested. His voice was muffled by Harry's shirt but he was determined to make himself heard. "Harry, this has gone far enough! I demand you release me!"

"No," his teetering defender argued belligerently, wrapping a firm arm around him and glaring daggers at the third man who had dared to approach Draco for a chat.

"Go away," Harry snapped, making haphazard shooing motions at the flummoxed brunet. "Go on! Get!"

Draco shrugged helplessly. Frankly, that was all he could do in his present situation. The man— Daniel, Draco thought his name was— offered him a commiserating nod. "I suppose I'll see you around then," he said as he backed away.

"No, you won't!" Harry informed him stoutly.

Draco groaned and slumped against Harry's chest, wondering if it was possible to die of mortification. Harry didn't care. He kept a firm grip on him until Daniel was well out of sight. Then he huffed in satisfaction and released Draco.

"There," he said smugly, patting down the wrinkles in Draco's shirt. "You're safe now."

Draco rolled his eyes. This happened every time they went out to a pub together.

Harry had a bit too much to drink and after that, it was _impossible _to convince him that every man who looked Draco's way did not have questionable intentions. For some unfathomable reason, in this state, Harry also felt compelled to protect Draco's virtue from said men— whether Draco liked it or not.

"He was just asking me for the time," he informed Harry dryly.

Harry waved him off dismissively. "He wanted to shag you," he argued. "I _saw_ him lookin' at you."

"Harry..."

"No!" Harry snapped, pouting like a sulky five year old. "He can't have you. He can't 'cause...'cause I saw you first. So there!"

Draco trailed off and a smile played on his lips. "Is that right?"

Harry nodded sullenly and slumped against his shoulder. "Saw you first," he mumbled.

Draco grinned and patted his head. "Of course you did, Harry. Of course you did."


	122. Babysitting Hugo

**Written for the hogwarts365 challenge on LJ with the prompts: "Believe it, _, when I say...",Hugo Weasley, Dream journal and Possessed.**

**Yeah, this was a tough one. On the plus side, baby!Hugo**

* * *

><p>"No! You can't do this to me, Harry! This is not happening!"<p>

Draco wouldn't really say he was shrieking _per se_, but he was coming fairly close. And the sight of Harry standing there with that pleading look on his face and the squirming bundle in his arms was not helping in the least.

"It's just for a few hours, Draco," Harry implored, hoisting Hugo Weasley on his shoulder. "I'll be back in two hours, tops. You _know_ I wouldn't do this if I had another choice. Just take him, will you?"

Baby Weasley gurgled happily and reached out to grapple for Draco with his chubby arms. Draco took a prudent step back.

"No," he declared firmly. "I don't know what possessed you to volunteer us for babysitting duty but you are not sticking me with Ginger Junior while you and Granger traipse off to the Ministry. Believe it, Potter, when I say no, I mean _no_."

"Don't call him Ginger Junior," Harry admonished sternly. "He has a name. Don't you, Hugo?" Draco huffed as Harry smiled gently at the baby and bounced him, much to the toddler's delight. This right here was what he was talking about. Harry was good with kids.

_Harry_. _Not_ Draco.

"Besides, he likes you," Harry went on.

Draco snorted. "He's a toddler. He likes everything. Last week, I saw him giggling and squealing for two whole hours over a _cup_."

"Exactly! So you've got nothing to worry about."

Draco's eyes widened as Harry promptly bundled the littlest Weasley into his arms. His grip tightened on instinct and Hugo emitted a small whine of complaint, wriggling dangerously as he tried to make himself comfortable. Draco stared into those guileless blue eyes, absolutely transfixed with horror.

"Harry, you can't do this!" he protested desperately. "Weasley will kill you when he finds out you left his son with me! And believe me, I am not going to stop him."

"Ron will be fine with it. I checked with him _and_ Hermione," Harry retorted, which just confirmed Draco's suspicions that this was some elaborate scheme to ruin his life. Of course, the extent of Weasley's schemes revolved around how to maximise his sugar quill intake but Granger was certainly devious enough to cook something up.

"Harry, please!" He was definitely shrieking now. "I can't...I don't _know_ anything about children! What if he cries? What if I drop him? Oh gods, what if he needs to go to the bathroom?!"

Harry just favoured him with another infuriating, reassuring smile. "I'll be back in no time," he promised. "You'll be just fine, I promise."

And with that, the traitor gave him a parting kiss, made for the fireplace and took off in record time. Draco scowled into the flickering flames, until an inquiring gurgle started him out of his dark musings. Hugo blinked at him and Draco swallowed.

"Um, hello?"

Hugo blinked again. Draco blinked back.

Oh, this was going to be a long two hours. 

* * *

><p>Draco's initial plan to just leave Hugo to his devices ended in massive failure. So there he was, minding his own business and making an entry in his Dream Journal (last night had featured a Hippogriff in a powdered wig, pounding a gavel and sentencing him to six years in Argentina) when the wailing started.<p>

Draco started and upset the inkwell as the howls ascended to a whole new level. Cursing a blue streak, he made a run for the tiny playroom he had set up for Baby Weasel.

"Something better be on fire, you little mandrake," Draco snapped as he bolted in. He skidded to a halt when Hugo stared at him with teary, blue eyes and lifted his arms in a not so silent demand to be held.

"No bye bye," he whined, sniffling and...and _dripping_ and grappling for Draco.

Draco's shuddered in disgust, attempting to reason with the little menace.

"I'm not going anywhere. I was just in the other..."

**"No BYE BYE!"**

"Okay, okay!"

Draco grumbled and groused as he hoisted Hugo in his arms, bouncing him a bit like he'd seen Harry do. Hugo calmed down eventually. He sniffed and hid in Draco's shoulder, holding on to him with chubby fists. Draco swallowed and patted his back gently. He was just such a _small_ person. So tiny and frail and trusting...just look at him, holding on to Draco like a lifeline. It was bloody terrifying. Draco would take the Hippogriff and the gavel over this any day.

"Er...there there?" he tried.

Hugo just whined in distress and held on tighter. Draco sighed and shook his head.

"I am _so_ not good at this," he muttered.

Hugo detached himself for a second. He patted Draco's cheek and gurgled seriously at him. Draco blinked at the tiny pocket of warmth against his skin.

"You have tiny hands," he informed Hugo. That earned him a happy giggle and another round of petting. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose I'm supposed to just drop everything and entertain you then?" he enquired dryly. Hugo squealed and Draco supposed that was a _yes._

"Come on then," he sighed, sitting cross-legged on the floor and sifting through the small toy box Harry had provided. "Let's see what we have here."

He busied himself with arranging a pile of blocks on the floor. Children liked shapes and colours, right? He had just started putting the yellow and green blocks in a little heap when Hugo protested.

"No!" he scolded disapprovingly.

Draco raised an eyebrow and gestured at the pile. "Well then, you do it."

Hugo took over and sifted through the pile, making _separate_ heaps of red, yellow and green blocks. He gurgled triumphantly at his handiwork and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Know-it-all. You're just like your mother."

Hugo giggled and patted his knee and if Draco cracked a smile at that, nobody could prove it. 

* * *

><p>"It's not that I don't trust Malfoy," Hermione protested as Harry fiddled with his keys. "I'm just <em>worried<em>. It's not like he's had a lot of experience baby-sitting."

Harry just tuned out her fretting and opened the door. He stopped short and a grin broke out on his face as he took in the sight in front of him.

"See?" he said, nudging Hermione's shoulder. "I told you they'd be fine."

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw them. Her baby was tucked into Malfoy's shoulder, fast asleep. Malfoy had an arm around Hugo and he was propped up against the couch in a way that couldn't be good for his back at all. Nevertheless, he was sleeping too.

"If I wasn't seeing it, I wouldn't believe it," she mumbled, shaking her head.

Harry chuckled and padded over, shaking Malfoy's shoulder. "Dray, wake up," he murmured softly.

Malfoy bolted up with a jerk. "Not guilty!" he blurted, looking around blearily. "Don' want Argentina..."

He trailed off as his eyes focused on Harry slowly. Malfoy yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Harry? What time's it?"

Harry smiled and stroked his hair back. "It's time for Hugo to go home," he said softly.

Malfoy blinked at the sleeping toddler using him as a pillow. "He's sleeping," he replied reluctantly, hoisting Hugo up gently. Hugo grumbled and fisted his shirt and Malfoy reacted at once, patting his back gently.

Hermione just stared. Oh, Ron was _never_ going to believe this.

"It's okay," she managed, approaching them carefully. "I'll just put him down for a nap at home. Thank you for watching him, Malfoy. I really appreciate it."

"Yes well, don't get used to it," Malfoy grumbled. Nevertheless, he was extra cautious as he handed the sleeping baby over to Hermione. "Careful," he warned as she settled Hugo on her shoulder. "Don't jostle him."

Hermione had to suppress a slightly hysterical giggle. "I think I've got it, thank you."

She left them with another grateful nod and strode into the floo. Harry hid a grin at Draco's wistful expression.

"I take it you and Hugo had a nice day?" he teased, nudging his boyfriend.

"It was tolerable," Draco replied. "He's alright. You know, for a Weasley."

Harry laughed and pulled him in for a kiss. "I'm very proud of you," he told Draco, nuzzling his hair affectionately. "I don't suppose you'd want to do it again sometime? Hermione has a long week ahead at the office and Ron's going to be out late too so maybe we could watch Hugo together?"

"Very well," Draco replied with a put upon sigh. "But you're going to have to follow my lead, Harry. It's serious business taking care of a baby, you know. You have to have a _knack_ for these things..."

Harry suppressed a chuckle and kissed him again. "I'll start taking notes."


	123. The Honey Trap

**Written for dove_drabbles on LJ, prompt: sleep late tomorrow. Also written for the JMDC challenge with the prompt of 'may' or a 'variation of may'. I tweaked it to 'maybe'. **

**Warnings: frequent mention of shagging, Draco is not a dog person.**

* * *

><p>They stumbled into Harry's flat, almost crashing into a table in their haste. Draco moaned in approval as Harry wrapped his legs and captured his lips again. His arms shifted to pull him closer, holding Harry in place so he could take his time with tasting his gorgeous boyfriend.<p>

"It's getting late," Harry whispered, even as he tugged Draco over to the sofa.

Draco grinned and followed without protest. "I'll sleep late tomorrow," he replied. "Maybe right here, if things go according to plan."

Harry smiled and looped his arms around Draco again, pulling him down on the sofa as well.

Oh, _yes._

"Confident, are you?" he teased gently. His green eyes sparked with mischief and Draco abruptly decided that they were done talking now. He leaned over Harry, clearly intending to pick up where he had left off. And he was doing a pretty good job at it too...

...until the growl sounded right behind him.

Draco froze.

Oh no.

The growling recommenced, louder and more insistent this time.

"Oh no," Harry sighed.

"No," Draco hissed. "Not again! Tell me this isn't happening, Harry!"

Harry sighed and pushed him off gently. "No sudden moves," he whispered. "We don't want a repeat of the February incident, do we?"

"Those were my favourite trousers," Draco grumbled. But he shifted off Harry— carefully and slowly. Then he turned around to look his old nemesis in the face.

"Hello, Godric," Draco spat.

The golden retriever ignored him and bolted at Harry like a bullet, whimpering in concern. Harry scratched his ears and murmured reassurances but the thrice damned mongrel wasn't convinced. He turned on Draco again, tail bristling in reproach.

Draco was entirely out of patience. "For Merlin's sake, you overbearing mutt! I am _not_ hurting him!"

"That's right, Draco," Harry sighed, swiping a weary hand over his face. "Yell at him. That will make him like you."

Godric ruffed in agreement and clambered on to the sofa, situating himself firmly between them. Draco was willing to bet every Galleon he had that it was not a coincidence. The mongrel commenced licking Harry, wagging his tail in Draco's face as he did.

"Harry, I'm just going to say it. This..." Draco declared, pointing at the offending canine. "...is getting out of hand. How do you expect me to move in here with you when your dog hates me?"

"He doesn't _hate_ you," Harry argued. "He's just protective. Like _any_ good dog. Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy, Godric? You are! Yes, you..."

Draco gave up as Harry went about coddling his pampered pet again. "I'm just saying the farm is an option," he muttered.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy!" Harry gasped in outrage and went so far as to cover Godric's ears. "If you're suggesting even for a second that I put my dog down because you're not getting any, I will hex you into next week!"

"Of course not!" Draco sputtered. "I meant a real farm! Where he can run around and chase rabbits and...Harry, I _swear_ I meant a real farm!"

Harry pursed his lips. "I think you should leave now," he said firmly. "And you can think about whether this is important enough for you to get along with Godric or not."

"But..."

"Goodbye, Draco."

Well, that was that. He had been thwarted again. Draco retreated to the fireplace in shameful defeat. But just before he flooed off, he noticed the smug, victorious look in Godric's eyes. Draco pursed his lips. Oh, he would be back alright. But this time, he would be prepared.

There was room for one top dog in this relationship, and it was _not_ going to be Godric.

* * *

><p>Like any good Slytherin, Theo laughed long and hard at his predicament. Nevertheless, after ten minutes of snickering he rallied to the cause.<p>

"Let me see if I understand this," he finally managed. "You're being cock-blocked by a _dog._"

Draco glared balefully at him. "Oh, you think that's funny?" he snapped. "By the way, how are Daphne's cats doing? All _six_ of them?"

As if on cue, a handsome Turkish Angora leapt up on the sofa and bunted into Theo's hand, purring up a storm. Theo scratched his ears and gave Draco a condescending look. "As you can see, Sir Fluffington and his kin like me. And I happen to find cats delightful."

"Oh, so they've stopped coming into the bedroom to watch you and Daphne shag?" Draco asked innocently.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Theo informed him with a sniff. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Against my better judgement, yes," Draco replied. "I'm that desperate."

Theo smirked and his eyes lit up. "You do realise this is a war, don't you?" he asked, sounding rather excited about the prospect. "You're engaged in a battle for Potter's affections with his pet. I think this calls for..."

"Please don't say _A Brief History of Muggle Military_..."

"_A Brief History of Muggle Military Strategies," _Theo announced, wrestling a book off the shelf behind him. He ignored Draco's groan of protest and thumbed through it. "Fascinating subject, you know. Have you heard of Sun Tzu? He's my personal hero. I'm certain we'll find the solution to your little predicament in here."

"Theo, it's a dog," Draco protested. "I hardly think I need a battle plan to..."

"Are you shagging Potter yet?"

"Read the damn book," Draco muttered, leaning over to help him. Theo smirked and skimmed through the pages, before finally stopping at something that caught his attention.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed.

Draco frowned as he read the text. "The Honey Trap?" he repeated sceptically.

"A real classic," Theo affirmed. "Look at this. Muggle soldiers invading a well armed fortress knew better than to jump in with their swords out..."

"This might be your worst metaphor ever."

"As I was saying," Theo continued firmly. "Distraction was a far more effective method. All they had to do was send in the Honey Trap— usually, a beautiful, seductive woman. When the guards were adequately distracted, they would sneak in and launch an offensive."

"Definitely the worst metaphor ever."

"Laugh if you will, but it worked," Theo argued, pointing indignantly at the book. "The question is, do you want to get past Potter's honour guard and plant your flag or not?"

"So you're suggesting that I find a dog with the sole purpose of distracting my boyfriend's dog so I can shag him in peace," Draco clarified incredulously. His brow furrowed as he went over that statement again. Huh. It had sounded a lot worse in his head. Actually, the idea had a rather Slytherin appeal now that he thought about it...

"By Merlin, it might work," Draco murmured.

"That's the spirit!" Theo replied, slapping his back cheerfully. "Now get to work. The sooner Godric buries _his_ bone, the sooner..."

"I'll give you a hundred galleons if you promise not to finish that sentence."

"Always a pleasure working with you Draco."

* * *

><p>Harry raised an eyebrow as he opened the door to his flat, only to see Draco standing there. "Hello, Draco," he greeted cautiously. Not so surprisingly, Godric made an immediate appearance and growled, hovering protectively behind Harry. Draco ignored him and focused on his boyfriend.<p>

"I thought about what you said," he announced. "And I've decided that you were right."

"Well, that's new," Harry said, sounding almost insultingly surprised. "Look, I appreciate the sentiment but you can't turn into a dog person overnight. It's really not that simple if you just don't like them. And if you're going to move in, we really need to think about how you're..."

"I know," Draco cut in, waving him off. "But I assure you, I'm committed to the cause. In fact, there's someone I want you to meet."

Harry's eyes widened as a golden retriever bounded out from behind Draco and ruffed happily at him. The situation sank in and Harry actually staggered a bit. "Oh no," he blurted.

Godric however, yipped in delight. He lumbered past Harry and all but bolted for their guest— their decidedly _female_ guest. She wagged her tail coyly as Godric sniffed enthusiastically at her.

Draco smirked and gestured grandly to his new familiar. "Harry, this is Helena."

Helena wagged her tail and barked in greeting. Harry just stared, absolutely speechless.

"Oh, you didn't," he mumbled, shaking his head fretfully. "Just tell me you didn't. Lie if you have to. You're a Slytherin; you know how it's done."

"What?" Draco asked with an innocent shrug. "You said I should learn to get along with dogs. So I got one of my own. Isn't she gorgeous?"

"She's lovely," Harry replied dryly. "I'm sure Godric will agree."

Godric promptly confirmed this by running circles around Helena, apparently inviting her to play.

"Oh, do you think so?" Draco asked innocently.

Harry wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms and fixed Draco with that relentless, stern expression that always made him want to sit in a corner and think about what he'd done. "You're astounding," Harry informed him. "I can't believe you would use this sweet girl as _bait_ so you can get to shag again."

Draco cleared his throat and lifted his chin, trying his absolute best to look affronted. "I don't think I like your insinuations," he told Harry loftily. "Helena is my companion, my best _friend_. The fact that she's a healthy, thoroughbred female with a gleaming coat and beautiful, brown eyes is a lucky coincidence. And don't take that tone with me. It takes two to shag, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's put aside the fact that you're morally reprehensible for a second. Assuming your little scheme works and Godric and Helena take to each other..."

"They'll leave us alone long enough to shag," Draco finished. "Isn't it wonderful how things just work out all on their own?"

Harry had started rubbing his temples. "One more time, Draco. Are you _really_ not seeing the flaw in this brilliant plan?"

"No," Draco informed him firmly. "As far as I can tell, everybody wins."

Harry gave up. He threw his arms up in defeat and fixed Draco with an exasperated look. "You know what? Fine. I'm not even going to try. You'll just have to figure it out on your own."

"Works for me. Can we shag now?"

Harry looked like he was trying to suppress a grin. But he stepped aside obligingly. "Come on in then," he said. "We might as well make the most of it while we still can."

* * *

><p><strong>Four months later...<strong>

Draco woke up to an insistent tugging at his hair. He groaned and scrunched his eyes shut, batting at the disturbance.

"Harry, we _really_ need to work on your idea of foreplay."

Almost instantly, a wet tongue licked a strip down his face. "Better," Draco mumbled, still half asleep. "But 'm tired."

'Harry' ruffed happily and licked him again. This time, Draco bolted up with a yelp of alarm. The golden retriever puppy wagged his tail and pawed at him, yipping up a storm. Draco groaned and scrubbed at his face.

"For Salazar's sake, Salazar!" he scolded. "What part of _not on the bed_ are you having trouble understanding?"

Salazar just barked and licked him again, prompting Draco to pick up the little nuisance and tuck him under his arm. Salazar's tongue lolled out as Draco grudgingly carted him over to the living room. Godric perked up at the sight and barked in welcome.

"Here," Draco grumbled, surrendering Salazar to the proud father. "Handle your son."

Godric nuzzled affectionately at Salazar before bounding over and licking Draco's hand. He rolled his eyes and indulged the mutt with a petting. "Oh, sure," he drawled. "I get you a girlfriend and suddenly I'm the best thing since old chewed up slippers, yeah?"

A chuckle rang out behind him. Draco turned around and saw Harry approaching with little Helga and Rowena tucked under each arm. An anxious Helena followed close behind, ever the overprotective mother.

"It's your own fault," Harry told Draco as he indulged him with a fond kiss. "All you had to do was walk Godric down the street or toss him a ball now and then. I hope you've learnt your lesson."

"Yes," Draco replied. "Never take advice from a man who lives with six cats."

Helga reached out and gnawed at his sleeve. Draco rolled his eyes and picked her up, staring into those soulful brown eyes. "All I wanted was a shag," he informed her solemnly. Helga wagged her tail and licked his face.

Harry grinned and wrapped an arm around him. "Still," he said softly. "It could be worse."

Draco stood there with his boyfriend, Helga gnawing at his shirt, Salazar chewing on his shoe and Rowena angling for his sleeve while Helena and Godric chased each other around the flat. A reluctant smile tugged at his lips because really, _this_ was his life now.

"I suppose it could be," he replied.

Harry smiled and Draco leaned in for a kiss, only to be thwarted as Helga reared up and licked his face again.

**END**


	124. That's An Order

**An older oneshot I wrote a while back. The prompt was 'Giving Thanks'.**

**Warning(s): Slightly dark theme, war backdrop, not angst but definitely not fluff**

**Summary: If Potter wants to thank him, he can bloody well do it in person.**

* * *

><p><em>It's time. We both knew this was coming. <em>

_By the time you get this note, I'll be long gone. You are not to come after me. Not this time. _

_I don't expect you to understand. But I do expect you to obey me (for once in your life)._

_You are not to follow. That's an order, soldier._

_It's gone on too long, all of this. Too many dead, too many lost. Because I couldn't bring myself to do what should have been done a long time ago. _

_It's him or me. Always has been. _

_I will do this alone, the way it should be._

_I write this now, only to thank you. _

_I thank you for believing in me, in my cause, in my war. I thank you for always being there — as my rival, my friend…as more than I dare say out loud._

_Even now. Even after all of this._

_Know that as I go on, it's with the conviction that there is something out there still worth fighting for. There are those who deserve a better world. I'm going to fight for them._

For you.

_I won't let you down. _

_Farewell, Draco. It's been a privilege._

_Harry._

* * *

><p>The wards of the safe-house shifted and Harry instinctively aimed his wand at the Floo. He lowered it as he recognized the flash of blond and the all too familiar smirk.<p>

Draco looked him straight in the eye as he stepped out of the fire, balled up his note and tossed it into the flames.

"Permission to follow you into battle, sir."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw. "Denied."

Draco smirked and flicked his wrist. His wand slipped from the holster and into his fingers, the movement confident and capable. "Write me up for insubordination, then," he replied coldly.

Harry's glare darkened and Draco's eyes flashed in open challenge. Silent tension crackled as they faced off, and as always it was Harry who finally had to give way.

He cursed fluently and tossed the bastard his Invisibility Cloak. "Cover me. Take down as many as you can. Stay out of the line of fire. And for once in your life Malfoy, _listen_ to me."

Draco grinned insolently, the shameless prat. "Don't I always?"

Harry shook his head, not sure if he was more relieved or annoyed. With Draco, it was always hard to tell.

"Don't die out there," he muttered gruffly.

Draco nodded distractedly as he shrugged into the Cloak. Harry growled and gripped his shoulder, pulling him closer.

His fingers tightened against Draco's slender frame, hard enough to bruise. "That's an order," he bit out.

Draco's eyes glinted in the dim light and he nodded. "Understood, sir."


	125. Four Times Harry Ruined Draco's Birthday

Written in honour of Draco's Birthday. Happy Draco Day, everyone!

* * *

><p><span><strong>Four times Harry ruined Draco's Birthday...and the one time he Saved it<strong>

**Draco's 21st Birthday:**

Five minutes.

Draco and twirled a quill in his fingers as his eyes tracked the clock on the wall. Each tick-tock made him sit a little straighter in his seat. Just five more minutes and he could pack up and go home. Not that there was much to do back at his little flat but it was better than spending another birthday hunched over his desk at the Ministry. No, Draco had plans for tonight. A date with a good book and a nice bottle of Merlot would be the perfect way to bring his twentieth year to a close and Draco was looking forward to it.

This birthday would be just perfect and all he had to do was wait another two minutes for freedom.

Just one more minute...

...and stop.

Finally!

"Well, see you tomorrow," he said to Potter, tossing his quills back in a desk drawer and packing up his briefcase.

His co-worker abandoned the sizable pile of reports on his desk and looked up. "You're in a hurry," Potter commented, watching Draco as he stuffed his papers into a briefcase. "Got a hot date lined up?"

Draco smirked. "Something like that."

Potter's brow arched down in a frown. He cleared his throat and went back to his papers, scratching at them a little viciously with his quill. "Anyone I know?"

Draco couldn't resist playing along. Baiting Potter was still one of his favourite pastimes. "Perhaps," he conceded. "Do you know a Mr Charles Dickens?"

Potter's head jerked up again and his eyes widened. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "You meant a _book_."

If Draco didn't know better, he'd say Potter looked relieved. That was interesting. He made a mental note to look into that...

...on Monday.

"Well, I hate to run but it _is_ my birthday so..."

Draco nodded a polite farewell and made for the door. He was almost on his way out when suddenly...

"Wait a minute!"

Draco turned as Potter got up from his desk and hurried over. "It's your birthday?" he demanded. "Why didn't you say something?" He sounded oddly affronted about it.

Draco blinked in surprise. "I...wasn't sure it was worth mentioning."

Was it?

Potter gaped at him. "Of course it's worth mentioning!" he retorted indignantly. "For Merlin's sake, it's your birthday! Happy Birthday, Malfoy."

Draco wasn't entirely sure what to make of his colleague's sudden bout of enthusiasm. Who knew Potter got in such a state over birthdays? Eventually, he rallied himself and offered the obligatory polite response to Potter's vociferous wishes. "Thank you, Potter. So, I'll see you Monday then..."

Yet again, he was thwarted. "Oh no," Potter said firmly, snagging his arm and pulling him back. "No way am I letting you go home to read on your birthday. That's just sad." Draco bristled indignantly but Potter was already on a roll. "We're going out," he announced excitedly. "There's a great little Karaoke Bar right next to the Ministry phone booth exit! It'll be brilliant!"

Wait, what? But Draco already had plans! Good plans!

"Potter, I appreciate it but..."

"Oi!" Potter bellowed, poking his head outside the office. "Did you lot know it's Malfoy's birthday?"

Draco cringed in embarrassment as assorted faces swivelled around and settled on him.

"It is?" Weasley spoke up. "Happy birthday, Ferret."

"Many Happy Returns, Malfoy," Longbottom offered as well.

The tide of greetings swelled around him and Draco tried his best to nod along politely. If he just held out a bit longer, he could probably still make it home and...

"So, how are we celebrating?" Longbottom asked.

Potter clapped Draco's back, coincidentally keeping him from making a break for the Floo. "Karaoke night!" he declared cheerfully. "Pack up, you lot! We're leaving in ten!"

Thirty minutes later, Draco had been deposited on a barstool in a dingy little pub. He scowled sullenly into a pint of beer as Blaise and Weasley warbled on stage about 'wanting it that way'. He wasn't even going to ask how Potter had managed to procure his friends for this unwarranted outing but no matter how he looked at it, Draco was now hosting a party of twenty five instead of spending an evening curled up on his couch.

"Best party ever!" Pansy chirped. Draco cringed as she pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday, darling!"

"Six— no, seven— bottles of Ogden's!" Theo staggered over to the bar and placed his imperious order. "Put it on the birthday boy's tab."

Oh, for Merlin's sake...

"Having fun, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow as Potter tumbled into a stool next to him. Pansy giggled, shot him a conspiring wink and ambled off. Draco had a feeling he was missing something here.

"Fan-bloody-tastic, Potter," he sighed. "I was going to go home and unwind a bit but watching Blaise and Weasley getting kicked off the stage is just_so_ much better."

"Oh, come on," Potter protested. "You can sit at home any day. Your birthday is _special_."

Draco had half a mind to make a scathing retort— something about how it was his birthday and he could veg out if he wanted to— but Potter was looking at him with such huge, hopeful green eyes. Like the only thing he wanted in the world was to know Draco was having a good time on his birthday.

Bloody brilliant.

"You're right," Draco conceded, trying not to sound too grudging about it. "Thank you, Potter. I'm having a great time, honest."

Potter beamed and Draco could have sworn it lit up the dingy little pub a bit. He suppressed a smile of his own and went back to his drink. Trust Potter to be ridiculously endearing even when he had just singlehandedly ruined Draco's entire evening.

Some days you just couldn't win.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Potter bit his lip uncertainly and ran an awkward hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. Draco's fingers twitched and he had to actively resist the urge to smooth it back. Then Potter turned on the crup eyes again and Draco just knew he was beaten.

Some days you just _couldn't_ win.

"Pick me up at eight," he replied, returning back to his drink. From the corner of his eye, he could just make out Potter's wide grin. Draco couldn't help it. He smiled too. 

* * *

><p><strong>Draco's 22nd Birthday:<strong>

Draco came home from a long day at the office to the unmistakable scent of frosting and baked goodness. He grinned and shucked his coat in a corner, sauntering over to the kitchen.

Harry was clearly hard at work seeing that he hadn't even noticed his boyfriend's entrance. He was busy stirring and folding and preheating. Draco's grin widened as he leaned indolently against the door, watching Harry's domestic side with interest. The apron didn't hurt either. When Harry bent over to put his handiwork in the oven, Draco couldn't resist speaking up.

"Happy Birthday to _me_."

Harry squawked and whirled around. The alarm gave way to a welcoming smile as soon as he caught sight of Draco.

"You're home early," he murmured, pulling Draco over for a kiss. Draco indulged himself with a taste of Harry and chocolate — possibly his favourite combination in the world. He looped his arms around Harry's neck to deepen the kiss.

"I had to make sure you weren't bringing the house down," he said when Harry finally allowed him to break away. Draco took a moment to take in the chaos that was his kitchen. "Have you been baking all day?"

Harry hummed in agreement and nuzzled against his neck. "Wanted to make you a cake," he mumbled. "And I had to set up for the party."

The party?

Draco suppressed a groan of dismay. As touching as Harry's exuberance was, he had been hoping to just kick back and relax this time. Apparently, they were having a party instead. Why wasn't he surprised?

He would never understand why Harry insisted on making such a big deal over the whole birthday thing. It was unbelievably sweet but honestly, all Draco wanted was to spend the day in bed with his boyfriend.

His sweet, sexy boyfriend who was currently clad in an apron, with chocolate icing smeared across his cheek and icing sugar dusting his lips.

Draco may or may not have been operating on autopilot after that. All he knew was that in less than ten seconds, Harry's hands were kneading his arse as he ground their bodies together while Draco busied himself with licking chocolate icing off every accessible part of Harry's body.

_"Yes."_

Harry's hiss went straight to his cock and Draco moaned his agreement, snaking a questing hand under that apron to cup...

"Draco, darling? Are you in there? I thought I heard some nois-oh!"

Harry froze and Draco sprang off him like he'd been burned. He whirled around and a flush of abject mortification crept up his neck. His parents stood in the doorway, gaping at the two of them.

_Oh Merlin, no._

"Well, this is..." Narcissa cleared her throat and pointedly averted her gaze, a light blush tinting her pale cheeks. Draco fought the urge to just barricade himself in the bedroom and let Harry handle this. The only thing that held him back was the realisation that that plan of action would probably end with the house coming down around them.

"We just dropped by to wish you a Happy Birthday, dearest," his mother finished finally. "I didn't realise you'd be...ahem, occupied."

Lucius however, looked close to livid. "You!" he snarled, pointing an imperious finger at Harry. "How _dare_ you take advantage of my son? On his birthday, no less! Have you no decency, Potter?"

"Hey!" Harry piped up indignantly.

"Now, Lucius," Narcissa chided. "We talked about this."

"But Cissa..."

"If anything, he was taking advantage of _me!_" Harry protested hotly.

Draco cringed so violently, he thought his insides probably rearranged themselves.

"Oh." Lucius cocked his head, considering that. "In that case...well done, Draco."

He was going to die of mortification, he just knew it.

"Hey!" Harry shrilled again, apparently offended. "I'll have you know I've taken advantage of him too! Lots and _lots_ of times!"

"I'm sure you have, Mr Potter," Narcissa placated soothingly, even as her husband sputtered in sheer outrage.

"That does it!" Lucius hissed. "I'm calling the Aurors!"

"We _are_ the Aurors!" Harry contested.

"And _we_ are leaving," Narcissa announced, taking her apoplectic husband's arm and leading him out firmly. "Come, Lucius. Draco is clearly having a perfectly lovely time on his birthday. We'll stop by later. Now let's see about getting you a Calming Potion, shall we? That's it, darling. Breathe in, breathe out..."

Draco waited until mother's calming voice faded away. Then he staggered against a counter and buried his face in his hands. He didn't emerge until he felt a tentative tap on his shoulder.

"Cheer up," Harry said. "We'll still have fun at your birthday party."

Draco groaned and hid in his hands again. "Next time," he muttered. "Let's just go out to a nice dinner, okay?" 

* * *

><p><strong>Draco's <strong>**23rd ****birthday:**

And that's why when exactly a year later, Draco found himself outside a ritzy restaurant in Diagon Alley, standing between his furious boyfriend and an equally affronted Maître d, he really had no one to blame but himself.

"No, _you_ don't understand!" Harry snapped, glaring at his checklist wielding nemesis. "I made that reservation weeks ago!"

"Monsieur, I assure you," the maître d replied, sounding rather bored of the whole thing. "If you 'ad made ze reservation, we would 'ave it here. But we don't. So it ees clear what ze problem is, non?"

Draco sighed in defeat. There was no way they were getting in. "Harry, let's just..."

"Yeah, it is clear what the problem is," Harry railed on. "You're incompetent, unprofessional and if the food in there is even half as overdone as your accent, I wouldn't want to eat here anyway!"

Oh, one step too far.

"Zat is magnifique!" was the scathing reply. "Because _you_ will never see ze inside of zis establishment while _I_ 'av something to say about eet! Au revoir!"

And slam went the door.

"Well, that was interesting," Draco drawled, taking a seething Harry's hand and leading him away before he resorted to Blasting Hexes. "Shall we just chalk this one up to bad luck and go home? Maybe salvage the evening with some music and wine?"

Honestly, there was nothing he'd like better than that.

"No," Harry replied stubbornly. "I promised you dinner and you're getting dinner. It's your birthday, for Merlin's sake! We just need to improvise."

"But I just want to..."

Harry's eyes widened as he caught sight of a sign across the road. "Yes!" he cheered, grabbing Draco's hand and pulling him over. "That's perfect!"

Ten minutes later, Draco had a pint of Butterbeer in his hand and a plate of fish and chips in front of him. The din of the Leaky Cauldron made any attempt at conversation absolutely impossible and he was accidentally shoved and pushed so many times that he ended up with tartar sauce down his front and spilled Butterbeer all over his new trousers.

It would seem that birthdays got worse with every passing year.

But then Harry smiled, leaned over to kiss him and murmur 'Happy Birthday' in his ear again. Draco gave himself over to the sweet kiss and decided that even the worst birthdays could be salvaged...

...right before someone accidentally pushed them again, sending Draco's elbow right into the tartar sauce. 

* * *

><p><strong>Draco's 24th Birthday:<strong>

This would be the one, Draco decided with no small amount of determination. This was the birthday where nothing— absolutely nothing— would go pear shaped.

Either that or it would be his last.

It had been a rough few weeks at the office. The Aurors had been running around the clock, trying to figure out how to intercept the underground potions smuggling ring that had cropped up in Knockturn Alley. It had almost culminated in a near disaster when a raid went awry, but Harry and his field team had managed to get there in the nick of time to nab the main suspect. It would have been a major step up in the operation, had the man deigned to speak to the Aurors. Unfortunately, the suspect was tenacious and tight lipped and perhaps even more unfortunately, Draco was the Auror in charge of the interrogation.

Being around a surly, taciturn criminal eight hours a day was doing nothing for his stress levels and by the time Draco's shift ended on the eve of his birthday, all he wanted to do was go home and crash. He was high strung and his nerves were fried but at least he didn't have to deal with a party this time. Harry had promised to hold off on doing anything fancy tonight. He had even given Draco a cheeky wink which one would assume, meant that a little private celebration might be in the cards.

It was just what Draco needed.

He heaved a sigh of relief and opened the door to his flat. He halted as he realised how dark it was. The lights were out. Draco frowned. The nervous tic in his eye made an unexpected comeback. There wasn't a sound from inside. Harry should have been home. Not liking any of this, Draco slipped a wand in his hand and stepped inside...

**"Surprise!"**

It all happened in a split second. Draco responded to all his Auror training by casting an immediate Stupefy in the direction of the attack cry and following it up with an instant Lumos.

The lights went on and he stopped in his tracks as Weasley went flying to the other end of the room, crashing right into Blaise, who howled and grabbed hold of Granger as he joined Weasley on the floor. She shrieked as she skidded, pulling out her wand in the process— presumably to try some damage control. Unfortunately, her spell work went awry and she ended up casting an Incendio which caught on the myriad streamers and paper plates.

Draco watched in mounting horror as the fire flared to life. Just as he was about to cast an Aguamenti, the fire spells warded around the flat went off.

Draco sighed and pocketed his wand as the sprinkler system activated, summarily dousing everyone. Shrieks of dismay sounded all around him and he rubbed his temples, trying to will away the headache.

When the chaos died down a little and Draco dared to look up, the first thing he saw was a drenched Harry holding a soggy cake while their friends took shelter from the pouring ceiling under various surfaces.

"Um, surprise?" Harry mumbled sheepishly.

Draco excused himself and retired to the bedroom without a word. Not surprisingly, Harry spent that night on the couch. 

* * *

><p><strong>Draco's 25th Birthday:<strong>

This time Draco came home early. He was a man on a mission. He didn't know what Harry was planning this time or how it would go wrong, but he was putting a stop to it.

"Hold it!" he barked, slamming the door open and striding indoors.

Harry whirled around and his eyes widened in surprise. "Hey," he greeted. "You're home..."

"Early, I know," Draco replied flatly. He squared his shoulders and glanced around the flat. Nothing seemed out of order. No streamers, no candles or balloons or any other frivolity. That was certainly a good sign. But knowing Harry, there just had to be something chaotic in store for him on this very special day. Past evidence suggested that it would either incinerate him, have him kicked out of a fancy restaurant or have his parents walk in at an extremely inconvenient time and Draco was just _done _with it. It was his birthday and Merlin as his witness, it was going to go right this time!

"No," he stated firmly, pointing a stern finger in Harry's face.

Harry blinked. "No?"

"No parties, no plans and absolutely _no_ surprises," Draco rattled off, holding a finger up for each infraction just to drive his point home. "I love you to death, Harry but if you do _anything_ to make my birthday special and memorable again, I will eviscerate you."

"But..."

"No! Absolutely not! All I want is to have a nice evening with you. Is that too much to ask? Instead, I am subjected to a circus every year and I am not standing for it anymore! I am turning twenty five today and damn it all, I am going to do it with Charles Bloody Dickens and a glass of bloody wine if it's the last thing _you_ do!"

Harry stood stock still through his tirade, blinking rapidly. "You don't like spending your birthday with me?" he asked in a small voice. Draco's ire deflated so fast, he actually felt it escape him. Harry stared at him with wide, hurt eyes and Draco winced in guilt.

"Of course I do," he said, approaching Harry and stroking his hair back. "I love you and I love that you go through all this trouble for my birthday. I love spending my birthday and every other day of my life with you. Even if it doesn't turn out the way I expected. You have to know that."

Harry's shoulders relaxed and he curled against Draco. "So you're not angry with me?" he asked hopefully.

"No. Merlin, no," Draco murmured, dropping a kiss in his hair. "I just want to spend time with you. That's all— just you and me, together and doing nothing in particular. That's all I want for this birthday, Harry. Just you."

"Oh," Harry murmured. Draco thought he felt a smile against his neck. "That's good," Harry added, tightening the embrace a bit. "Because you're all I want on your birthday too."

"So, how about it?" Draco asked. "No parties or having people over. Let's just have a quiet night inside and relax."

Harry smiled and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "I think that's a brilliant idea," he said. "And just so you know, that's _exactly_ what I planned for us today."

Draco grinned and kissed his forehead. "It sounds wonderful. Thank you, Harry."

Harry disentangled himself and gave Draco a gentle push towards the bedroom. "Why don't you go inside and get started on that relaxing? I'll just...um, check something and be there in a minute, yeah?"

Draco offered no protests to that and headed to the bedroom. Harry waited until he was out of sight before hurrying over to the coat closet and wrenching it open.

"Yeah," he mumbled, fidgeting awkwardly. "So there's been a slight change of plans."

"Oh, come on!" Theo grumbled, shifting the cake a bit. Pansy squeaked in outrage as she got some icing on her dress and huddled over to Blaise's side instead.

"But we went through all this trouble," Blaise protested. Admittedly, his glare would have had more of an effect if he hadn't been wearing a party hat.

"_And_ we came prepared!" Ron added, holding up a fire extinguisher.

"Right, and that's all brilliant," Harry agreed. "But it's Draco's birthday and he wants out. So no, we're not doing a big thing this year."

"No party?" Pansy pouted.

"No party," Harry confirmed. "Now, can everyone just...you know, get out of my closet?"

"But..."

"Harry." Draco's voice came from the bedroom. "If you're done kicking our friends out, can we get on with the celebration? Unless of course, you _want_them to stick around for the Birthday Spanking..."

Ron retched, Theo huddled against the shoe rack and Pansy clapped her hands in delight. Harry however, swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat and fixed the lot of them with steely eyed resolve.

"Get out. Get out now or I'll make you."

And with that, he bolted for the bedroom, put up six different Locking Charms and went about celebrating Draco's birthday just the way they liked it.

And for once, it was a _very_ Happy Birthday indeed.


	126. The Battle of the Flower Bed

**Written for a few challenges on LJ. Prompts were 'feel the sun on your face' and 'wet'.**

**Warning(s): This fic includes Harry/Draco and one sided Neville/Draco.**

**Featuring oblivious!Draco stuck between two alpha males *grins***

* * *

><p>Draco wouldn't go as far as to say he enjoyed gardening. Oh alright, so perhaps there was something to be said for the sensation of soil slipping through his fingers and the warmth of the sun on his face. But there was also something to be said for grass stains and muddy clothes and dirt under his fingernails. Still, he supposed if he <em>was<em> going to participate in the grand rebuilding of Hogwarts, he would rather be out in the gardens than hauling rocks with Weasley and Thomas. At least out here, he wouldn't get his back twisted in knots.

Yet again, he stuck his trowel into the ground and emerged with a clod of dry, packed earth. Draco wrinkled his nose and shucked it away before carefully stowing the tulip bulb into the shallow hole and packing it up again. With any luck, the flowers would be in full bloom by the time Hogwarts opened her gates again. Draco smiled slightly at the thought. After the horror of the war, it was actually nice to focus on something as mundane as planting flowers.

"Looking good there, Malfoy."

Draco's head jerked up at the sudden interruption. Longbottom grinned and knelt beside him. Draco couldn't help feeling just a little smug. Longbottom was the resident flower expert, after all.

"They do, don't they?" he agreed, gesturing to the flower beds.

To his surprise, Longbottom chuckled. His dark eyes raked Draco's body and his smile widened just a fraction. "I wasn't really talking about the flowers, but I suppose they look good too." He leaned over to inspect the tulip bulbs. Draco frowned in confusion as Longbottom sidled a little closer, swinging an easy arm around his shoulders.

"Not bad at all," Longbottom commented approvingly. His arm tightened around Draco in a gentle squeeze. "I like a man who knows his way around a garden."

"Aren't you supposed to be on window cleaning duty right now?" Draco asked. As far as he knew, Granger was borderline vicious about her task scheduling. Draco had memorized the dratted thing in order to escape her wrath. As far as he knew, Longbottom was supposed to be cleaning the windows right now, Pansy and Blaise were in the Great Hall trying to reconstruct the house banners and Potter was due to show up to help him with gardening any minute.

Longbottom waved a careless hand. "I swapped my shift with Harry," he explained with a shrug. "I figured you could use my help in the gardens. I'm sure he won't mind."

"Oh," Draco murmured, absently wondering why the prospect of not seeing Potter today disappointed him a bit. Finally, he decided to mull on it later. These tulips wouldn't plant themselves, after all. So he nodded and handed Longbottom a trowel. "Well, why don't you get started on that bed over there and..."

"Hold on," Longbottom cut in. "Let's put this one to rights before we get started on anything else."

Draco bristled indignantly. Was Longbottom suggesting he had done a less than stellar job on the flowers?

"What's wrong with them?" he demanded.

Longbottom chuckled and nudged him gently. "Nothing too drastic. You just didn't pack the soil tight enough. Here, I'll show you."

Before Draco could argue that he had done it just fine, thank you very much, Longbottom was behind him, crowding against his body. Strong hands wrapped around Draco's wrists and Longbottom leaned them forward. Draco blinked in surprise at the sensation of Longbottom's broad chest against his back, pushing him forward.

"Very good," Longbottom purred in his ear. "Now watch how I do it." He positioned Draco's hands against the flattened earth and pressed down, packing the soil in. Oh, alright then. Draco observed the motions carefully before trying on his own.

"Like this?" he asked, pressing his fingers against the mud.

Longbottom's fingers were still on his wrist and he tightened them just a fraction. "Very good," he praised, leaning into Draco again. "You're a natural, Mal-**oi!**"

Draco squeaked in alarm as the sudden _splat_ came out of nowhere. Longbottom squawked in indignation and released Draco, standing up abruptly. There was a wet spot on his shirt and his hair was drenched. He glared around wildly and Draco wasn't really sure what had just happened until...

"Oh, mate. Did I get you with that Aguamenti? Merlin, I'm _so_ sorry."

Draco whirled around and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Potter leaning indolently against the old oak tree. How long had he been there? And what was he _smiling_ about?

"Harry," Longbottom greeted stiffly, catching sight of his house mate. "I didn't see you there."

Potter grinned as he approached. "Morning, Malfoy," he greeted pleasantly before turning to Longbottom. "Terribly sorry about that, mate," he apologised again. In Draco's opinion, his smile was a little too sincere. "I was aiming for the window."

"The window," Longbottom repeated dryly. "You mean the window about five hundred meters in _that_ direction?" He gestured at the castle and Potter's grin widened.

"Apparently, I'm on window cleaning duty right now," he went on. "Funny, because I could have _sworn_ I had gardening today. With Malfoy." He was still smiling but Draco could swear that his posture was rigid and a little...defensive_,_ somehow.

Okay, now Draco was officially confused.

Longbottom's shoulders went back and he lifted his chin. "I asked Hermione to swap our shifts," he said smoothly. "I thought I could help Malfoy here in the gardens. You know, show him how it's done."

Potter's eyes flashed. "That's very nice of you," he replied, "but I think I can show Malfoy how it's done just fine."

Draco's jaw dropped in sheer indignation. He knew how to plant bloody flowers! He was about to tell the tossers just that but Longbottom started off again.

"You should get back to those windows, Harry," he declared firmly. "I can handle the flower bed for one day. I'm bloody good at it, you know."

Potter's fist clenched and his jaw tightened. "I'm sure you are," he bit out. "But see, I'm quite fond of this particular...flower bed. In fact, you could say I consider this flower bed as _mine._"

"But it isn't," Longbottom contested with a smirk. "As a matter of fact, I think this 'flower bed' is up for grabs and I'm going to have a go at it, if it's all the same to you."

"You can have any other bloody 'flower bed' you want," Potter spat, rearing in aggressively. "This one is _taken_."

"Maybe I want _this_ one," Longbottom hissed back.

"Go clean the bleeding windows, Neville," Potter growled through clenched teeth. He looked rather menacing now.

Unfortunately, Longbottom wasn't backing down either. "_You_ clean the windows, Harry," he snarled back. "I'm staying here and that's bloody final."

Draco's jaw dropped as he watched the bizarre scene unfolding before him. Was this really happening? Were the two heroes of the magical world seriously going to come to blows over a ruddy patch of dirt? It was official. Gryffindors were barking mad. Finally, when it looked like the wands were going to come out, Draco decided to step in as the voice of reason.

"Why don't _I_ go take care of the windows?" he suggested, getting up and dusting his trousers off. "And you two can have your precious..."

"You stay out of this," Potter growled. His green eyes were still flashing daggers at Longbottom.

"Yeah," Longbottom agreed. "This is between me and Harry here."

Draco's jaw dropped for the second time. Seriously? They were still glaring daggers at each other. Longbottom had all but bared his teeth and Potter's fingers were twitching— a sure sign that he wanted to go for his wand. Draco, on the other hand was not a lunatic and he had had enough.

"Well, one of you better decide who's staying," he snapped. "Or I'm going to Granger and having you _both_ put on window cleaning for the next three weeks!"

Really, he didn't need this drama!

"I'm staying," Longbottom insisted.

"No, you're leaving!" Potter snapped. Longbottom looked ready to throw hexes first, ask questions later but Potter was relentless. He barged into Longbottom's space, nose to nose with him now. "I saw him first, Neville," he hissed.

Wait, what?

Before Draco could process that, something in the tense dynamic shifted. Longbottom's jaw tightened but he took a slight step back. "Fine," he muttered. "You can stay."

"Thank you," Potter snapped back.

Longbottom sneered at him. "But only because I'm not that into this 'flower bed' anyway and I know _you've_ been obsessed with it since Third Year. So, yeah. You owe me one. Happy _planting_, you berk."

With that, he turned and stomped off. Potter scowled at his retreating back. "Much obliged!" he called out. Longbottom raised a hand and flipped him the bird. Potter gave him one last sneer and then he turned back to a flabbergasted Draco. His expression brightened at once.

"So," Potter said cheerfully, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him back to the tulips. "How've you been?"

"What..." Draco shook his head, looking slightly dazed. "What the _hell_ just happened?"

If he didn't know any better, he would swear that skirmish hadn't been about flowers at all. And did Potter really say...

"No idea what you're talking about, Malfoy," Potter replied blithely. "So, got any plans this evening?"

Draco gave up and trudged back to the flower bed with Potter. Really, he didn't think he would ever understand Gryffindors.


	127. Two Cats and a Collar

**Written for the harry_draco_cat community on LJ.**

**Warning(s): Wee mentions of collaring. No actual collaring.**

* * *

><p>To tell the truth, Harry didn't even notice it until a few weeks after Draco moved in. Up until three weeks ago, he had been living in a state of blissful ignorance; in a world where his cat and his flatmate were two very different and completely separate individuals. To be fair, Harry would admit— if only to himself— that he held a certain degree of fondness and affection for both of them. But he would have liked to think that his interactions with his pet were at least a <em>little<em> bit different from his associations with his flatmate.

Vladimir was a handsome Russian Blue whom Harry had adopted from the local shelter. He had bright green eyes and bluish grey fur and he was quite a good looking devil. He was also aloof and extremely demanding, although he had been known to bunt against Harry's legs and gift him a lizard when in a good mood.

Draco was a handsome Malfoy whom Harry had adopted from the local Manor. He had silver grey eyes and soft blond hair and he was a rather stunning specimen himself. He was haughty and disdainful, although he had been known to wash the dishes and relinquish the remote on the rare occasion.

So yes, Harry acquiesced that in theory they were completely different. But frankly, that line was starting to blur a bit. Harry was starting to see things. Things he couldn't unsee.

It started one morning at breakfast. 

* * *

><p>Harry, as per usual was the first out of bed and thus, he got stuck with the cooking. He was just done with the eggs and had started on frying up the bacon when Vlad sauntered in.<p>

"Morning, handsome," Harry greeted.

Vlad favoured him with a yawn and an ear twitch before meandering his way over and looking up at Harry with an enquiring _meow_.

"Sorry, but no," Harry told him firmly. "Bacon is bad for you. We do have cat food for a reason, you know."

Vlad hissed indignantly and swatted at his ankle.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped. "Okay, okay! Just a little though, yeah? And just this once."

Vlad didn't dignify that with a response. He merely accepted the proffered bacon, treated Harry to haughty look and took off again.

Seconds later, a sleep rumpled Draco stumbled in. Harry suppressed a smile at the sight of his rumpled pyjamas and sleep tousled hair. As nice as Draco was to look at when he was immaculate and perfectly groomed, he looked rather cute like this too.

"Good morning, handsome," Harry cooed, ruffling his hair fondly.

Draco scowled at him and shuffled over, peering suspiciously into the frying pan. His grey eyes lit up speculatively at the sight of bacon.

"Givvit," he groused, trying to dig a fork in.

"No," Harry replied, fending him off easily. "You can have some when I put it on the table. Like a normal person who wasn't raised in a barn. Not before."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the challenge. He jabbed Harry with the fork. Hard.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped. "Draco, no. Stop that!"

"Gimme it," Draco hissed, jabbing him again.

"Ow! Okay, okay! Here. But just this once, you hear me?"

Draco swiped up the bacon strip and sauntered off, with one last reproachful scowl in Harry's general direction.

Harry shook his head in exasperation, even as a fond smile pulled at his lips. It wasn't until a few minutes later when he replayed that entire scene in his head again, that his smile faded. 

* * *

><p>A few days passed and Harry had chalked the breakfast incident up to an odd if somewhat amusing coincidence. So, when he was reading on his sofa one weekend and he felt a paw bat at his head, he didn't think much of it.<p>

"Hello there," Harry mumbled distractedly.

Vlad rumbled in response and continued his grooming, batting and kneading at Harry's scalp in a futile effort to pat his hair down. Apparently, his unsuccessful attempts were starting to frustrate him because he hissed in displeasure.

Harry chuckled in amusement and stretched a hand behind to scratch the cat's ears. "Give it up, mate. It's a lost battle."

Vlad wasn't so easily deterred. Harry tolerated the grooming until Vlad started gnawing at his hair, at which point he swept an arm across and brushed him off the couch. Vlad hissed and padded off with one last baleful look at his hair.

Harry grinned and returned to the Quibbler, intending to read about the latest Nargle sightings in Nova Scotia when...

"For Merlin's sake, Potter! Are you still lounging around?"

Harry's eyes flicked from the magazine to a frowning Draco. "It's Saturday," he protested.

Draco smirked. "Exactly my point. And don't you have a lunch date with Weasley and Granger every second Saturday of the month?"

Harry's eyes widened in alarm and he bolted off the couch. "I forgot!" he blurted, dashing off to find his jacket. "Mione's going to kill me!"

Draco just grinned smugly as he watched him run around in frantic circles. "Oh, that _never_ gets old," he snickered happily.

"Oh, ha ha!" Harry snapped. "Have you seen my shoes?"

Draco rolled his eyes and flicked his wand obligingly. "_Accio_ Potter's shoes."

A pair of trainers zipped out from under the bed and smacked Harry in the head. From Draco's shameless grin, it was quite clear that he'd done that on purpose but Harry had no time to argue. He pulled his shoes on and headed for the door. "Okay, I'm set. I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

"Wait!"

Harry whirled around and staggered to a halt at the sight of Draco's horrified expression. "What?" he demanded.

Draco gaped incredulously and pointed at Harry's unruly hair. "You can't seriously tell me you plan to go out looking like that!" he said, sounding appalled at the very thought.

Harry huffed impatiently. "Draco, it always looks like this. Now, I really have to get going or..."

"It will only take a second, Potter," Draco cut in firmly. Then he was there right in front of Harry, smoothing and patting and fussing at the dark locks.

"Draco, come on!" Harry whined, trying to brush him off.

"No!" Draco snapped. "You look like a Knockturn Alley reject. Now hold still..."

Harry suffered the grooming for as long as he could before finally prying Draco's hands off. "It's fine," he protested as Draco geared up to argue again.

Draco pursed his lips, looking entirely unconvinced but there was no time to placate him. Instead, Harry just ruffled his hair fondly and bolted out the door, ignoring Draco's outraged gasp at the sheer audacity.

He Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron in record time, only to suffer Hermione's disapproving frown.

"Harry, you're late again," she scolded. She looked him up and down and shook her head in exasperation. "And your hair is a fright."

"It was fine until Draco got his paws on it," Harry grumbled, settling in the chair next to Ron. "Well to be fair, Vlad got his paws on it first and... why are you looking at me like that?"

Hermione and Ron were both staring at him, looking somewhat flummoxed. Finally, it was Ron who broke the stunned silence. "Why don't you start from the beginning, mate? Sounds like a story we all want to hear."

So Harry told them about his morning and the impromptu grooming sessions he'd been subject to. By the time he was finished, Ron's lips were twitching and Hermione wasn't even bothering to stifle her giggling.

"What?" Harry demanded suspiciously.

"Nothing," Ron supplied. He took a deep breath and looked away, evidently trying to hide a smile.

"Nothing at all," Hermione agreed.

Harry wasn't buying it. "What is it?" he demanded.

Hermione broke first. She turned to him, evidently still fighting for a straight face. "You have two cats."

Harry gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"You have two cats," Ron agreed. "And apparently, they're both very fond of you."

Harry scoffed incredulously. "That's ridiculous," he protested. "Why on earth would you...what gave you the idea that..." He trailed off as the incident replayed in his head. The rest of Harry's argument faded and his jaw dropped.

"Oh no," he mumbled.

Ron snickered and patted his back. "Just let us know when Malfoy starts leaving dead birds on your doorstep, yeah?" 

* * *

><p>By the time Harry got home that evening, he was feeling a bit out of sorts. Hermione and Ron had been more amused than anything at the new developments in his life, but Harry couldn't say he shared the sentiment. Now that he thought about it, he was starting to see a lot of similarities between Draco and Vlad. They both hated the toaster, for example. And Draco's obsession for shiny baubles was only rivalled by Vlad's fascination with Harry's collection of Snitches.<p>

Harry groaned inwardly. How did he get himself into these situations?

Still shaking his head, he entered the flat...and promptly skidded to a halt.

Draco and Vlad were sitting across from each other. Harry eyed them warily. Neither acknowledged his presence, nor did they make any move to. They didn't even bother to turn and look at him. Instead, they just continued staring at each other, unblinking and unwavering. Draco's eyes narrowed and Vlad's ear twitched. Draco cocked his head and Vlad swished his tail.

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Um, Draco? What..."

"Shh," Draco hissed and waved him off, still caught up in the unrelenting staring contest. "I'm winning."

Harry bit down a groan of despair. He really shouldn't ask. He really shouldn't. "What are you winning, exactly?"

"I don't know," Draco replied with a distracted shrug. "Glory, I think."

Harry retired to his bedroom without a word. 

* * *

><p>By this time next week, Harry had all but accepted it. He was, in fact sharing his home with two felines. It could be worse, he supposed.<p>

At least there were no dead birds yet.

It was evening when Vlad made his presence felt again. Harry jumped slightly as he felt a soft, furry something rub against his leg. Vlad bunted against him, purring like a well oiled traction motor.

"Hey, you," Harry murmured, reaching down to stroke him. Vlad looked up at him and warbled mournfully. He bunted against Harry again, evidently demanding immediate attention to his petting needs. Harry chuckled and resumed his stroking. "Rough day, eh?"

Vlad meowed in agreement so Harry sighed and tapped his leg. In seconds, he had a lapful of cat. Vlad made himself at home, reclining luxuriously on Harry as he was stroked and petted and made much of. "Who's my handsome boy?" Harry cooed, scratching behind his ears. "Such a magnificent bloke you are. Who's my best..."

"Worst day ever!"

The door slammed and Harry jumped in alarm, displacing Vlad. The cat hissed and leapt to the floor before sprinting away. Draco stormed in right on cue, threw his briefcase in a corner and slumped on the sofa next to Harry. He ran a hand through his hair and scowled at the wall.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, reaching out to pat his back soothingly.

Draco huffed in displeasure and slumped over, sliding in to rest his head on Harry's lap. "Awful day," he whined. "Just bloody awful."

He fixed a mournful gaze on Harry, who had to suppress an amused chuckle at the imploring expression in those big, grey eyes. Instead, he clicked his tongue in sympathy and ran a soothing hand through Draco's hair. "There there," he murmured. "It will get better."

"Won't," Draco mumbled sulkily, pushing into Harry's hand a bit.

Harry really did his best not to laugh out loud. It took some effort, but he managed it. Draco didn't seem to notice. He just pushed against Harry's hands, trying to get his fingers working in the right places. "I hate everything," he announced sulkily. "I hate everything and everyone and I'm never moving from this spot again."

Harry tried not to think about how absolutely fine he was with the idea of a lapful of Draco for all eternity. Now wasn't the time. Draco was clearly upset and he needed some fussing to make him feel better. So, Harry just sat there, stroking and petting him with some cooing thrown in for good measure.

"Poor thing," he murmured affectionately. "My poor, handsome boy."

Draco hummed in approval, snuggling in further. "Keep going," he mumbled sleepily, nudging into Harry's palm again.

Harry chuckled and _accioed_ the Quibbler, browsing through it as he petted Draco to his heart's content. 

* * *

><p>Not surprisingly, he woke up on the couch the next morning with Draco firmly tucked under his arm and Vlad slumbering on his leg. Harry yawned and scrubbed at his eyes, taking care not to disturb the sleeping blond in his arms as he shifted over.<p>

"Morning, mate," he murmured, jostling his thigh. Vlad cracked one eye open and yawned at him. Harry jerked his leg again. "Off you go," he mumbled. "Come on."

Vlad twitched a reproachful ear, swatted at him and took off while Harry busied himself with trying to extricate himself from an armful of blond. "Draco," he murmured softly. "Hey, it's time to get up now..."

Draco mumbled sleepily and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Harry smiled fondly and kissed his forehead on impulse. A sleepy, grey eye cracked open to observe him, not unlike Vladimir at all. Harry grinned and jostled him a bit. "Morning, sleepy head," he said softly. "Up for some breakfast?"

"Later," Draco mumbled, shifting in his arms.

The next second, Harry's eyes widened in surprise as Draco leaned in for a kiss. Soft, warm lips brushed against his and Harry moaned in response. It seemed to encourage Draco because he swiped his tongue against Harry's bottom lip, suckling gently.

Oh _yes_.

It was all the encouragement Harry needed. He gripped Draco by the hips and manhandled him into position, until Draco was sprawled under him, still addled and sleepy but definitely interested. Harry grinned and nuzzled against his throat, delighting in the purr that elicited.

"More," Draco moaned, arching into his touch and wrapping a long leg around him to hold him in place. His body twisted under Harry's regard, sinuous and unsurprisingly feline.

Of course.

"Harry," Draco hissed irritably, digging a heel into his back. His eyes were narrowed and Harry had no doubt that if he'd been in possession of a pair of pointed ears, they'd be laid flat against his head. Draco tightened his hold on Harry's waist and lifted his chin in stubborn demand. _"Now."_

Harry just grinned and resumed his ministrations. At the back of his mind, he made a note to get his new kitten a collar first thing tomorrow.


	128. May I Have This Dance?

**Written for the slythindor100 community at LJ. The prompt was 'Father daughter dance'.**

**Warning(s): Uber schmoopy. You have been warned.**

* * *

><p>Draco sipped at his flute of champagne, letting his gaze rove the small garden. For all its homeliness, he had to admit the Burrow could actually pull off a quaint sort of elegance with the right effort. The Weasleys had certainly gone all out for Bill and Fleur's Tenth Wedding Anniversary.<p>

Orbs of light floated about the tables casting a soft, golden glow. Vases of freshly cut flowers made for simple but elegant centrepieces. Good food, wine and music marked the occasion— as was custom at any event hosted at the Burrow. In the centre of the venue, a dance floor had been etched out for the couples. It was no Manor, but he thought he could get used to this too.

Draco chuckled in amusement as Harry swayed a beaming Molly to the music. His boyfriend grinned and mouthed _you're next _to him and Draco raised his glass in acknowledgement. Over to the right, Bill's beautiful wife spun gracefully in his arms, all smiles and radiance. And even further away, Harry's ex-wife, Ginny Weasley laughed as she dragged her husband Neville to the floor. She caught Draco's eye and waved a greeting which he politely returned.

It never ceased to amaze him how easily she— how all of them— had accepted his presence in Harry's life but then again, he was slowly coming to find that the Weasleys for all their flaws, were an accepting and generous bunch. As far as they were concerned, he made Harry and the children happy and therefore, he was part of the family. It was a bit overwhelming, but he wouldn't pretend he wasn't touched.

Speaking of the children...

Draco returned to his survey of the grounds. Scorpius, James and Albus were easily spotted. The younger boys were steering clear of the dance floor, whispering furiously to each other in a corner. Draco was pleased to note how comfortable and at ease Scorpius was with his new surroundings. A little further off, James was trying to fend off an adamant Victoire who evidently wanted to dance and wasn't taking no for an answer. He shot Draco a beseeching look as she dragged him away. Draco chuckled and resumed his search. There was one more in their brood and he had yet to find her.

Ah, there she was.

Eight year old Lily was hovering by the floor, watching the dancers. Her large, brown eyes drifted from Fleur to her mother, tracking their graceful spins and twirls with clear admiration and longing. Something in Draco's chest tugged at the sight. He would never, ever admit to having a favourite among the kids (Merlin save him, there would be hell to pay) but he did have something of a soft spot for Harry's little girl. Seeing her standing there— so uncertain and innocent with her frilly white dress and her ballet flats and her curly red hair— brought out his protective instincts.

Draco made his way over, smiling fondly when she brightened up at the sight of him. "Enjoying the party?" he asked.

"It's nice," Lily mumbled, slipping a small hand into his. Draco squeezed gently in a show of reassurance. "Mum looks pretty," she added wistfully.

"So do you," Draco countered, earning himself a small, shy smile. "In fact," he went on, "I think you're the prettiest girl here."

"You're just saying that," she accused, nudging him playfully.

Draco's lips twitched but he schooled his expression. "I would never lie to a lady," he replied seriously. "My father would have my hide."

That got him an amused giggle. "I'm not a lady," Lily told him primly. She sighed and renewed her grip on his fingers. "Not yet, anyway."

"Oh? And what gave you that idea?"

Lily gestured to the dance floor. "I can't dance," she mumbled. "Not like that."

Draco chuckled and knelt down beside her. "And have you tried?" he asked softly.

Lily bit her lip and shook her head.

"Well, I happen to think you'll make a wonderful dance partner," Draco told her. "In fact, I'd be honoured, Miss Potter."

Lily's eyes widened exponentially. "You want to dance with me?" Her tone reflected a mix of delight and disbelief.

Draco held her gaze with all the solemnity and seriousness it deserved. "There's no one here I'd rather dance with," he said firmly.

Lily grinned impishly. "Not even Daddy?"

Draco laughed and took her hand again, leading her to the floor. "He can wait." From the corner of his eye, he thought he caught Harry smiling at them, but he didn't look back. For now, Lily had his undivided attention. She looked up at him uncertainly and he ushered her over at once.

"Hop on," he urged, helping her to stand up on his shoes. Lily obliged, holding on for balance as Draco twirled them around. It was a little clumsy— quite unlike the smooth glide he usually prided himself on— but Lily was clearly having the time of her life. She beamed up at him as they took another turn. This time, the guests parted to make way for them, some chuckling fondly and others going so far as to applaud.

"You see?" Draco grinned. "You're the belle of the ball."

Lily giggled happily, clearly enjoying being the star of the evening. She tightened her grip on Draco and he chuckled at her renewed confidence.

By the time the third song finished, Lily had no dearth of partners. Finally, she deigned to detach herself from Draco and favour her Uncle Ron with a dance. Draco chuckled fondly as she twirled away, all sunny smiled again.

He was just about to take his leave from the floor when a strong arm wrapped around him. Harry smiled as he leaned in for a soft kiss. "Have I ever told you how brilliant you are?" he murmured against Draco's lips.

Draco smiled back and deepened the chaste kiss, letting his arms wrap around Harry's broader frame. "All in a day's work, Potter," he replied teasingly.

Harry tightened his grip, locking his arm around Draco's waist. "May I have this..."

_"Ahem."_

Harry trailed off at the sharp, rather insistent tap to his back. He turned around, still holding on to Draco. Rose Weasley crossed her arms and frowned disapprovingly at him. Dominique and Lucy were right behind her, shifting impatiently. Victoire was abandoning a rather affronted James and hurrying over and little Roxanne was right behind her.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Harry," Rose declared firmly. "You'll just have to wait in line like everyone else."


	129. Breaking the Law

**Written for the slythindor100 comm on LJ. Prompt: Lavender**

**Warning(s): Outdoor sex, exhibitionism, partially clothed sex, bondage, spanking, suggestions of 'infidelity'.**

**This content is not suitable for minors.**

* * *

><p>Draco was exhausted. The meeting with the Romanian delegation had lasted a lot longer than he'd expected and by the time he made it back to his office in the International Affairs Department he was wound tighter than Granger's girdle. The direction his frayed thoughts had taken made him shudder a little. Draco stood up abruptly, deciding that it was time for a break.<p>

He tossed his coat on the chair, unbuttoned his cuffs and loosened his tie, debating whether or not to toss it as well. It was an expensive silk piece in a fetching shade of lavender. His husband had picked it out for him last week. Finally, Draco decided to keep it on as he headed out the door. He would be back in half an hour anyway— right after a quick, refreshing flight.

Thankfully, he kept a spare broom in the office break room, for situations just like this. Draco smiled and his steps quickened in anticipation. 

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later Draco was swooping through the air, performing loops and twists he hadn't attempted since his days at Hogwarts. The wind whipped through his hair and the sun shone down on his face. He felt better than ever. Deciding that he could push his recess for a little longer, he diverted from his well worn flight route and took off for lesser known trails.<p>

He was flying dangerously close to a Muggle district now, a designated no-fly zone. Draco hovered uncertainly, taking a discreet look around. Not a soul in sight. Good enough. He grinned happily and made another clever loop, catching a current and riding it lazily until...

"Do you know you're in a no-fly zone, Malfoy?"

Draco startled so badly that he nearly fell off his broom. By the time he managed to straighten himself up, Potter's mouth was a stern, grim line. He was cruising alongside Draco on his ancient Firebolt, matching pace effortlessly. Draco cursed his luck. Of course he would run into an Auror on his first flight in a no-fly zone in years. And of _course_ that Auror would be Potter. Bloody perfect.

Well, there was nothing for it but to find a way out of this.

"I am?" he asked innocently, widening his eyes for added affect. "Oh, how careless of me. I hope I didn't cause any trouble."

Potter snorted, evidently unconvinced by his little show of innocence. "I'm going to have to direct you to land immediately," he replied. "Follow me, please."

He angled his broom and headed for a deserted little wooded area, leaving a scowling Draco to follow. Damn it! Potter would most certainly write him up for this. And impose a hefty fine just for the fun of it. Draco groaned inwardly as he thought of what his husband would say about this. No, he couldn't let Potter charge him. There had to be another way. Perhaps, he could bribe his way out of this. He scoffed at that idea. For Salazar's sake, it was _Saint_ _Potter_. That was definitely a one way trip to the DMLE office.

But what if...could he _flirt_ his way out of this? Draco considered that thought carefully. On one hand, he was happily married. But it was only to get out of a fine, right? And if it worked, no one would be the wiser. Yes, this plan held promise. Discreetly, Draco slipped his wedding ring off and put it in his pocket. Then he swooped down to join Potter on the ground.

"Right," Potter said tersely, waving his wand and conjuring a list. He checked off a few items before turning to Draco. "Wait here while I get the charges in order. Then we'll discuss your fine."

Potter's authoritative tone sent a shiver through Draco. The man was definitely suited for law enforcement. And the way those official robes fell over his broad chest should be illegal— a rather ironic observation given Potter's occupation. Draco caught his wayward thoughts and yanked himself back to reality, firmly focusing on his beloved husband. No matter how good Potter looked, he could _not_ get carried away. His only goal here was to get out of this mess without being charged six ways to Sunday.

That was all.

So Draco sauntered over, biting down on his irritation when Potter ignored him in favour of his stupid checklist. Even after all these years, the feeling of being dismissed by the man rankled at him. But all those unresolved feelings could wait until he got out of this mess.

"I really didn't know this was a no-fly zone," he purred.

Potter frowned, but offered a jerky nod. "I'm sure it was an honest mistake," he acquiesced. "But the rules are there for a reason, yeah?"

Draco had half a mind to tell the prat just where he could shove his rules. Instead, he lowered his gaze and fluttered his lashes, sidling ever so slightly into Potter's space. "But I'm _really_ sorry. Don't you think we could come to some other...arrangement?"

Potter froze. He tore his gaze from his notes and gaped at Draco. The shock in those green eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a stern glare. "Malfoy," Potter snapped. "Are you trying to flirt your way out of a fine?"

"What?" Draco gasped, batting his lashes again. "I would _never_."

Potter's mouth tightened and he crossed his arms. "Shall I go over the penalty for propositioning an Auror?" he asked. "Believe me, it wouldn't be the first time."

Draco absently wondered how many people propositioned Potter on a daily basis. He brushed away the inexplicably annoying thought and affected his most charming smile instead, trailing a flirtatious hand down Potter's robes. Damn, he really was as toned as he looked. "That won't be necessary," Draco murmured. "It wouldn't be my first time either."

Potter shivered under his touch and Draco felt a surge of triumph at the distinct reaction. "Malfoy, stop that at once," Potter intoned firmly. "Or I'll be forced to take you in."

"Or," Draco purred, "you could force me to take _you_ in."

That worked. It worked a little _too_ well. Potter grabbed his wrist and Draco squeaked in surprise as he was hauled along in a vice-like grip.

"Oi!" he snapped, throwing all that feigned coyness out the window as he struggled to get free. "Let go of me, you tosser!"

Potter snorted and tightened his grip. "I knew you were in there somewhere," he retorted. "Seriously Malfoy, did you really think that little stunt would work? It's the oldest trick in the book."

Draco struggled as best as he could but Potter was too strong. He turned Draco over and pressed him against the trunk of a rather strategically located tree, hoisting his hands up. And then Potter yanked off his lavender tie.

"Now you," he growled, deftly tying Draco's wrists up, "are going to sit tight while I ring up your charges. And yes, I will be adding 'propositioning an Auror' to the list."

Draco snarled in outrage and tried to kick at him, but Potter just hoisted his hands over a low hanging branch and secured the knot. Draco was left facing the tree and dangling with his hands secured against the sturdy branch, just about balancing on his toes.

"Perfect," Potter smirked, grinning at his handiwork. "You do look rather fetching, Malfoy."

"Bastard!" Draco snarled, kicking viciously at him.

Potter side stepped him with another chuckle and ruffled his hair teasingly. "Try not to get into any more trouble," he advised as he sauntered back to his notes.

Draco fumed. Oh, he was way past fuming. He was livid, not to mention anxious. He should have paid the stupid fine when he had the chance. Now he was probably looking at some rather serious added offences, if Potter decided to press the propositioning issue. Draco swallowed against a lump in his throat. The idea of what his husband would say if he found out, and he _would_ find out...oh Merlin, it was unbearable. Draco's gut twisted at the thought. He couldn't let that happen. He just couldn't.

"Potter," he finally rasped when his fingers started going numb.

"Just a little longer, Malfoy," Potter replied. "And then I'll take care of you."

Draco's gut twisted even as his cock jerked in anticipation at Potter's unintentional phrasing. Damn it! This was so not the time for his stupid bondage kink to act up!

"Potter, come on," he whined, trying to twist around so he could actually _see_ the prat. "Can't we just...sort this out here and call it even?"

Potter snorted in amusement. "Why? Don't want your husband to know what you get up to when he's not around?" Draco froze in shock as Potter chuckled again. "I saw the ring mark on your finger," he clarified. "I'll wager you took it off for your little act, eh?"

When the hell did Potter get this observant?

"Fine," Draco snapped sullenly. "Obviously, it didn't work. I'm tied to a tree and embarrassed beyond belief. You've had your fun. Now let me go, you tosser!"

"Oh, Malfoy," Potter retorted with a dark, husky laugh. "I haven't even come _close_ to having fun yet."

Draco stilled again. Potter was silent now and he could _feel_ those intense, green eyes raking his back. Draco swallowed as his trousers tightened and his cock tented. This was definitely getting out of hand. "What...what do you mean?" he stuttered.

"Do you really want to make a deal, Malfoy?"

"I...what are you..."

"Or I could just take you back to HQ and lock you up until that husband of yours bails you out..."

"No!" Draco yelped. "What do you want? I'll...I'll do anything."

"Brilliant," Potter replied after a beat. "Then we have a deal. Now shut up and just look pretty while I decide what to do with you."

Draco flushed in abject humiliation and tried not to squirm. Even fully clothed, he was on full display and he had little doubt that Potter was enjoying his rising blush and the tent in his trousers. He closed his eyes, trying to temper his rising guilt. To his dismay, he realised that the roiling twisting in his gut wasn't guilt as much as it was eager anticipation.

Oh Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

After what felt like ages, Potter finally approached him. Draco groaned and tried not to push back as Potter's hands settled on his hips.

"Very nice," Potter mused. "Your husband's a lucky man, Malfoy."

"Don't...don't talk about him," Draco managed, trying to arch away from the tantalising touches.

Potter laughed, still caressing his hips gently. "Works for me. I don't really want you thinking of him while I'm fucking you."

Draco tried to be repulsed, he really did. But the idea of Potter fucking him— out here in the open where anyone could just walk by and see them— refused to lose its filthy appeal. And then Potter crowded into him, pressing against his arse and Draco's hips jerked on instinct.

"So eager," Potter purred and there was definitely a leer in his voice. "I think you're enjoying this, Malfoy."

"Just get it over with," Draco hissed.

Potter stepped back at once, although he didn't release his hold on Draco's hips. "You know, Malfoy. I'm getting a little tired of your attitude."

Draco squeaked in outrage as Potter gave him a light spank on the arse. "Here's how this is going to work," Potter went on without preamble. "If you want something, you'll ask for it _nicely_. And if you don't, it'll take me five minutes to cart your pretty arse back to the DMLE."

Draco grit his teeth as colour flew to his cheeks again. Potter swatted his arse again. "So what's it going to be? Do you have something you want to say to me?"

Draco slumped in sullen defeat. "Fine," he growled. "Do it."

Potter hummed in consideration and ran a questing thumb over Draco's prominent hipbones. "Sorry, but no. Not good enough. Want to give it another try?"

Draco could have screamed. When he got out of this, he was going to hex Potter's skin off. How bad could Azkaban be, really? Then Potter swatted him _again_, reminding him of his humiliating circumstances.

Draco took a deep, calming breath which didn't help at all and tried again. "Please fuck me," he mumbled.

"Didn't catch that, sorry."

"Will you _please_ fuck me?" Draco all but snarled.

Thankfully, that was good enough. Potter chuckled and pressed an affectionate kiss to his nape as he unzipped Draco's trousers. "Now was that so hard?" he asked teasingly. His fingers gripped Draco's cock through his boxers and Draco whined in frustration.

Potter snickered. "Definitely hard," he decided, resuming his shameless groping. Draco hissed and jerked into Potter's grip, giving into his traitorous body's demands.

"Damn, you want it bad," Potter muttered, yanking eagerly at his pants now. Draco hissed as his bare arse was exposed, rubbing against the rough fabric of Potter's trousers. His cock jutted proudly from its confines, jerking in anticipation as Potter's grip tightened.

Potter hummed in obvious approval and redoubled his attentions, tracing his hands under Draco's shirt and thumbing a pert nipple before resuming course. His tongue flicked out to taste Draco's skin. He licked and nipped and sucked and damn it all, Potter _knew_ what he liked. By the time he was done, Draco was a panting mess.

"Potter," he moaned, arching desperately into those rough, capable hands again. "Just _please_..."

"Does he touch you like this?" Potter whispered harshly. "Does he give you what you need, Malfoy?"

"Don't talk," Draco whined. "Just...Merlin, please just..."

The sound of a zipper being pulled down brought him back. Draco tugged desperately at his bonds as Potter spread his arse cheeks roughly and whispered a quick Lubrication Charm, slicking them both. "Relax," he ordered. "No time to prep you. Need to be inside..."

And that's all the warning Draco got before he was speared on Potter's length. He gasped and thrashed against his bonds, while Potter clamped an arm around him to hold him up. "So tight," he hissed through clenched teeth. "So bloody hot and _tight_, Malfoy. I'll bet you never get fucked like this."

"Potter, please! Just move, damn it!"

Potter thrust into him, hissing in pleasure as Draco moaned and clamped around him. "That's it," he rumbled, running a hand down Draco's spine in praise. "That's it, Malfoy. I'll give you what you need..."

And Salazar help him, Potter did. Draco's eyes rolled back in his head as Potter found his rhythm, pistoning into Draco's slicked entrance and spearing him over and over again. Draco moaned and jutted his hips out to meet Potter's thrusts as best as he could in his restricted state. Potter definitely liked that. One strong hand clamped down on Draco's hips, pulling him up to meet every thrust as the other wanked his cock.

"That's what I'm talking about," Potter growled, angling his hips as he slid on home. Draco gasped and nearly arched off Potter's cock as stars flew through his hazy vision. Potter chuckled huskily. "That's the spot, yeah?"

Draco didn't deign to reply. He was too busy grinding on that hard, gorgeous length cock like a wanton whore. And right now, he didn't give a damn that he was being fucked into oblivion outside or that it was Potter or that he was bloody _married_, so long as Potter just never stopped ramming into him...

Potter found his prostate again. One sharp thrust and a slick twist of the wrist was all it took. Draco _flew_ over the edge, keening as he spurted all over Potter's fingers as pleasure rolled over him in waves. "Oh _gods_," he managed, falling limp in his captor's grip. Potter kept up for a few more seconds. One thrust, two, then three...his grip tightened and his teeth clamped in Draco's neck as he shuddered to completion.

"Merlin," Potter hissed. His arm wrapped around Draco as he sagged against him. "Damn Draco, that was _intense_."

Draco blinked, taking a moment to come back to reality. He wrinkled his nose at the wet trail making its way down his thighs. "Let me up, you barbarian," he groused.

The next second, his tie unwrapped itself and his fingers slipped free. Draco allowed gentle hands to straighten his clothing and then Harry pulled him over, rubbing his wrists and kissing his forehead and murmuring gentle reassurances. "It didn't hurt, did it?" he asked softly, green eyes brimming with concern. "You didn't use the safe-word so I thought..."

"I'm fine," Draco mumbled, waving off his fretting. Then he lifted his head to scowl blearily at his husband. "And now I'm late for work, thanks to you."

Harry laughed and pressed an affectionate kiss to his temple. "You know I can't resist you when you break the law," he teased. Then he frowned and jostled Draco. "On that note, I don't _really_ want to arrest you so please stop breaking the law."

Draco snorted. "We just had sex in public. I'm just going to go ahead and assume that ship has sailed." His tie was still fluttering on the branch. Draco huffed irritably as he retrieved it carefully. "You better not have ruined my favourite tie," he warned, doing it up deftly.

"It's fine," Harry mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll buy you a new one tomorrow just in case."

"I like _this_ one," Draco replied petulantly. "And I don't appreciate losing my things every other week to your depraved games."

Harry chuckled against his throat. "You love my depraved games," he countered. Draco couldn't really refute that— especially given the rousing shag he had just been treated to— and Harry took it as a victory. He disentangled himself from Draco with a final kiss and gave him another light smack, just because.

"Get back to work. I'll see you at home," he grinned. "And maybe we can talk about the rest of your charge sheet."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I call abuse of authority."

"You love it, you wanker."

Draco didn't deign to respond to that. He just pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek and hoisted up his broom.

"Oi!"

Draco halted and turned around, just in time to see Harry toss something at him. He smiled as he deftly caught his wedding ring.

"Don't take it off again," Harry warned, hoisting his own broom up. "Unless you need to flirt your way out of a fine, of course."

Draco laughed and shook his head. "Only with you, Auror Potter," he promised. "Just don't tell my husband."

"He loves you, you know."

Draco's laughter faded to an almost tender smile and he slipped the ring on at once. "I love him too," he replied. "Even if he is a kinky bastard."

Harry took off on his broom with a delighted smile and Draco made to follow him. He could still get an hour's worth of work done at the office.  
>And after that, maybe Auror Potter could read him his rights in vivid detail. Draco's grin widened at the thought.<p>

Oh, he couldn't _wait_ to get home.


	130. Camping Capers

**Written for the prompt: Sleep under the stars.**

**Summary: Big brothers are gits. Sometimes, the little ones fight back. In short, Harry and Draco have their hands full.**

* * *

><p>"So, are you boys all set to sleep under the stars tonight?" Draco asked over breakfast one morning.<p>

His six-year-olds exchanged excited grins and nodded vigorously. Draco exchanged an amused look with his husband, smiling when Harry squeezed his hand under the table. It was nice seeing kids so happy.

"It's going to be awesome!" Albus announced happily. "We'll pitch a tent in the yard and we'll have sleeping bags and comics and Bertie Bott Beans and..."

"...and we'll make a campfire and tell each other scary stories!" Scorpius contributed, bouncing excitedly in anticipation of their night out of the house.

Harry winced at that last bit. "Maybe hold off on the fire," he suggested. "And keep the scary stories to a minimum. We don't want you spooking each other out, yeah?"

"We'll be fine," Al insisted.

"Sure you will," a new voice commented cheerfully. "At first."

Draco raised an eyebrow as Teddy sauntered in, with all the authority of a fifteen year old who had spent more than his fair share of nights in the backyard. As usual, James was firmly by his side. The conspiring grins on their respective faces were not very reassuring.

"Would you like to elaborate?" Draco asked dryly. He had a feeling they would.

"Yeah," Al added, frowning uncertainly. "What do you mean 'at first'?"

Teddy blinked innocently before turning to James. "I don't think they know," he stage whispered, widening his eyes for effect. James played along, feigning shock. "Should we tell them?" he whispered back.

Harry gave them a warning look. "Boys," he began sternly. Unfortunately, they had already captured their audience's attention.

"Tell us what?" Scorpius demanded, pouting suspiciously.

Teddy and James exchanged another silent look. James sighed dramatically and offered an exaggerated nod of approval, prompting an eye-roll from his fathers. "Okay, I guess you have a right to know," he said soberly. "Tell them, Ted."

Teddy crossed his arms and sighed. "There's a full moon tonight," he announced quietly.

Draco did not like where this was going. "Teddy," he scolded, pointing a firm no-nonsense finger at his cousin slash quasi-son. "Stop it."

Naturally, he was ignored.

"What about the full moon?" Albus piped up, eyes wide and rapt with attention.

Teddy was clearly fighting for a straight face by now. Nevertheless, he kept his expression solemn and his voice low. "They say that when the night is dark and the moon is full, The Headless Horseman comes out to prowl. He stalks through the woods on his skeleton steed, lying in wait for careless little boys out on their own..."

"Uh huh," Harry drawled, clearly unimpressed. "And who are 'they' exactly?"

Teddy huffed impatiently. "You know, _people._ Everyone."

"Not everyone," James corrected. He whirled around to Al and Scorpius with a menacing grin. "Those captured by the Headless Horseman don't _ever_ say anything again."

"Because they're dead," Teddy added helpfully.

That got the desired effect. Scorpius whined and huddled against Harry's arm while Al clambered over Draco for comfort. Harry sighed in exasperation and gathered up his trembling son. Draco held Albus close and scowled at the two troublemakers. "Bravo," he drawled, offering a slow clap for good measure. "An extraordinary performance, really."

Harry snorted. "Makes you wish they'd put this much effort into their homework, doesn't it?"

"They're lying, right?" Albus demanded, staring up at Draco with big, green eyes. "Right, Father?"

Draco smiled and stroked his hair gently. "Of course. You know better than to take them at their word, don't you?"

"Yeah," Al mumbled, snuggling into his side again.

"I guess so," Scorpius added uncertainly.

Harry shot the snickering duo one last glare and hoisted Scorpius up. "Come on," he said, kissing his forehead gently. "Let's go get the tent set up, yeah? And you two," he added, eyeing Teddy and James warningly. "Stay out of trouble."

They waved cheerily as he left for the yard with Draco and the kids.

"You know, Ted," James said thoughtfully, after a beat of silence. "I see a _lot_ of potential here."

Teddy grinned and clapped his back. "Jamie boy, I like the way you think." 

* * *

><p>Later that night, Scorpius huddled inside his sleeping bag, listening to the rustling wind. Al was right next to him, fidgeting restlessly as he tried to get comfortable.<p>

"You don't think Jamie and Ted were telling the truth, do you?" Scorpius whispered.

Al turned on his side, looking slightly pale. "Dunno," he mumbled. "I don't think so. But..."

"But what if they were?" Scorpius finished shakily.

Al sighed and reached out to pat his brother on the back. "It's a good thing we came prepared, huh?"

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed. "But I don't think Jamie's Beaters' Bat will be much good against a Headless Horseman."

"Maybe the Dungbombs will hold him off," Al suggested. He didn't sound too convinced though. Scorpius sighed and snuggled back into the bag, trying to will himself back to sleep. He really wished he could run back to the house. Dad and Father had said they could come back inside anytime they liked, but...Scorpius didn't want to be the one to bolt first. Al was still here and he was being brave, wasn't he?

And then Scorpius heard a sound that made his insides freeze in pure terror.

A low ghostly moan echoed outside the tent, punctuated by soft, footsteps. Scorpius' heart hammered and he clenched his sweaty palms tight, squeezing his eyes shut. "Al?" he whimpered.

"I hear it," Al confirmed, sounding just as terrified.

"Wooooo!" The moan echoed in the night again. A scraping sound carried over, like claws being dragged against the bark of a tree.

Scorpius bit down a scream of terror. "It's h-him," he whimpered. "Al, it's _him!" _

He wanted Father. He wanted Dad. Heck, he would even settle for James and Teddy at this point!

A dark shadow cast itself across the tent. Al swallowed, and got up. He was still shaking like a leaf but his expression was stoic. "Remember when you said the Dungbombs won't hold him off?" he whispered.

"Y-yeah," Scorpius stammered.

Al nodded firmly and handed him a Dungbomb. "Let's find out."

Scorpius looked at his brother's brave, determined expression and felt his own courage make an unexpected comeback. He lifted his chin and picked up the Bat. "Together," he told Albus solemnly.

The shadow hovered outside the tent. Albus and Scorpius watched with wide eyes and bated breath as a ghostly hand extended , fumbling with the tent flap. Suddenly, the flap tore open and they found themselves staring at a ghostly, linen clad wraith, towering above them in all its macabre, decapitated glory.

It was him. It was the Headless Horseman!

Now or never, Scorpius decided firmly.

**"Now!"** Al bellowed, tossing a Dungbomb at the Horseman. It grunted in surprise and fell over.

**"Kill it!" **Scorpius howled, wielding the Bat like a battle-club. "Kill it 'til it's dead again!"

The brothers issued their war cries and charged for the Horseman, determined to go down fighting. 

* * *

><p>Harry bolted down the stairs, and raced to the gardens, only vaguely aware of Draco close at his heels. By the time they managed to make their way towards the chaos, things were already bad enough.<p>

"Oh perfect," Draco muttered, sliding to a halt beside his gaping husband.

"Die, Headless Horseman!" Scorpius shrieked, holding the Bat up. "Die!"

"Get him, Scorp!" Al shrilled, hopping around as he tossed another Dungbomb in the ruckus. "Get him where it hurts!"

"Ow!" the crumpled figure on the ground moaned, rolling around in the dirt. "Holy sh...we _give_ already! We surrender!"

Harry groaned and scrubbed his face wearily. "Should we stop them?" he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "In a minute."

**"Die die die!"** Scorpius bellowed, bringing the Bat down again.

"Okay, we're stopping them," Harry decided, striding over meaningfully. "Boys! Boys, calm down."

"Dad! Father!" Al yelled, making a beeline for his parents. "It's the Horseman!"

"Scorpius, stop," Draco ordered, pulling Albus over. "It's just your brother and Teddy."

Scorpius stopped his assault and blinked. "Huh?"

Harry sighed and batted the sheets away, extricating a rumpled Teddy from the tangle. James' head popped out from under him. "Holy Mother of Merlin," he groaned pathetically. "My spleen!"

Al gaped as they emerged, his shocked expression immediately giving way to outrage. "It's them!" he howled.

"You **jerks!**" Scorpius shrilled. "Dad, look! Look what the gits did!"

"I know," Harry sighed. "I see them." He huffed in exasperation as James and Teddy tried and failed to get out of their mess. Finally, he hauled each of them up and marched them over to his husband. Apparently, Scorpius and Albus hadn't beaten _all_ the sense out of them because they cringed in the face of Draco's impending wrath.

"Aren't you two ashamed?" Draco growled, glaring at the cringing boys. "I for one, would really like to hear what you have to say for yourselves."

"That makes two of us," Harry put in sternly.

"And three!" Scorpius added, crossing his little arms and glaring.

"We didn't think they would fight back!" James protested, still doubling over. "Seriously, does _anybody_ care about my spleen?"

"No," Draco replied flatly.

"It was just a joke," Teddy mumbled, scowling as he scrubbed dirt out of his hair.

"You ruined our camp-out!" Al protested. "We could have died!"

"_You_ could have died?" James argued, holding his side. "You nearly killed us, you little monsters!"

Al snickered and high-fived Scorpius. Harry chuckled and Draco suppressed a smirk of his own as they turned to the sullen duo. "What should we do with them?" Harry asked. "Ground them? Extra chores? No allowance?"

"Oh, come on! They threw Dungbombs at us!" Teddy whined. "Haven't we been punished enough?"

"No," Al and Scorpius chorused.

"I agree," Draco put in. "This calls for creative measures." He smiled ominously at the two and cast the verdict. "Congratulations, gentlemen. You just earned yourselves a night of Guard Duty." 

* * *

><p>A few hours later, two sullen sleepy boys scowled at each other as they guarded the tent against terrors of the night.<p>

"_Great_ plan," Teddy grumbled. "One of your best. Give yourself a hand, James."

"Oh, shut up," James snapped, still scrubbing dirt and dung off his hair. "You didn't have to go along with it."

"Yeah? Well, you're a jerk."

"You're the jerk, jerk!"

A blond head popped out of the tent suddenly, startling both of them. "Any sign of the Headless Horseman yet?" Scorpius asked brightly.

"For the hundredth time, no!" Teddy snapped. "There's. No. Such. Thing!"

"Just checking," Scorpius replied. He smiled sweetly and held out a bag. "D'you guys want some Beans?"

James scoffed and snatched the bag up. "Thanks. Now get lost, squirt."

"Goodnight, then." Scorpius bid them a polite farewell and scrambled back inside the tent. Al frowned at his brother. "Why did you give them the Beans?" he demanded in a furious whisper. "After all they did to us too!"

"Don't worry," Scorpius grinned. "I threw in some _special_ flavours for them. Wait for it."

"Ugh! Vomit flavoured?! You little **gits!**"

Al burst into giggles as Scorpius snuggled back in his sleeping bag with a contented sigh. "I love camp-outs, don't you?"


	131. Father(s) of the Grooms

**Written for the hd_fluff prompt: Je ne regrette rien (I do not regret anything at all). I tweaked it to 'I regret nothing'.**

**Summary: Sirius and Lucius screw up big time. Then they fix it.**

**Warning(s): flangst, temporary break up, alive!Sirius**

* * *

><p>It began— as most stories do— with a proposal. Harry realised now that that was the easy part. When he had presented Draco with a custom made, Goblin crafted platinum ring and his boyfriend had joyfully accepted, he had figured this was it. He had finally found the perfect man and his Happily Ever After would soon follow. From here on out, it would be smooth sailing all around.<p>

Oh, the poor, naïve boy.

Now, here he was standing in the wreckage and rubble of what had once been the opulent West Living Room at the Manor. Harry's heart sank as he took in the upturned furniture, torn tapestries and shattered pieces of china and crystal all around them. Draco stood right beside him, shoulders hunched slightly as he fidgeted with his ring. Narcissa surveyed the chaos, clutching sample swatches of white linen tightly in her pale, slim fingers as her angry gaze narrowed in on the cause of all this havoc.

"I regret nothing," Lucius sneered, clutching at his torn trouser leg. His hair was singed and he was sporting a cut lip. _"Nothing!"_

"Likewise," Sirius snapped, trying to wrestle a plastic cone off his head. "For the love of Godric, will someone get this blasted thing off me?!"

Draco swallowed and sat down shakily in a chair. Harry put a supporting hand on his shoulder, trying not to feel too hurt when his fiancé shrugged it off. He couldn't blame Draco entirely, though. Things had been...tense between their respective families ever since the big announcement, but this was the worst thing to happen so far.

Sirius and Lucius had finally come to blows— over their speech rehearsals of all things _("I'll go first!" "No, I'll go first!")— _and frankly, Harry was starting to doubt it was worth it. He wondered if Draco felt the same way. His pale, pinched features and the tense turn of his mouth suggested that he was in similar straits.

"Of all the juvenile, irresponsible, inappropriate stunts I have ever witnessed," Narcissa hissed suddenly in the ensuing silence. Her eyes flashed dangerously and despite her diminutive frame, both Sirius and Lucius cringed a little in the face of her wrath. "What do you have to say for yourselves?!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Sirius protested, looking more like a pouty teenager than the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. "Your husband attacked me!"

"You drew your wand first, Black!" Lucius snarled. He turned to his seething wife and his expression went from livid to contrite in a split second. "Cissa, I really didn't start..."

"I don't care who started it!" Narcissa snapped. "To _think _you are the scions of two of the greatest Houses in magical history! This is supposed to be a joyous celebration. These boys are getting married in a month! They ask for your blessing and your support and what do you do? You scrap and snap at each other like...like ill-bred mongrels!"

"One of us _is_ an ill-bred mongrel," Lucius muttered under his breath.

"Yeah?" Sirius reared up at once. "Why don't we take this outside, you poncy peacock?"

"I don't see why not. Would you like to chase some squirrels while we're out there?"

"Enough!" Narcissa ordered, stepping in between them before they came to blows again. "Just listen to the two of you! Your mothers would be rolling in their graves."

"Good," Sirius muttered petulantly. That was the last straw as far as Narcissa was concerned. Her eyes narrowed and she reached out, twisting her cousin's ear until he staggered and yelped in pain. "Ow ow** ow!** Cissy, stop it!"

"You will cease this senseless feud," Narcissa declared firmly, twisting again for good measure. "You _will_ get along, you _will_behave yourselves for the sake of your son and godson and you will _not_ goad each other into a row again! Am I clear?"

"I didn't provoke the mutt," Lucius sneered, crossing his arms defensively. "He is simply intolerable."

"And you are a pain in the arse!" Sirius yelled, breaking out of Narcissa's hold. "I can't believe Harry wants to marry into this House of the Damned!"

"Potter is lucky we're even considering him for Draco!" Lucius snarled back. "The likes of you wouldn't even set foot in this Manor if it wasn't for..."

"The likes of _us?_ You arrogant, pompous windbag! I ought to..."

"Enough."

The chaos halted as Draco stood up, glaring at the gathering with narrowed eyes. Finally his unforgiving gaze settled on Sirius. "Would it be too much to ask of you to stop insulting my family every two minutes?" he demanded with a sneer. "I know I'm not your first choice for Harry but I would really appreciate it if you could just pretend to be happy for us every now and then."

Harry frowned and turned to him. "Now, wait a minute. Your father started it with all those dog cracks."

"Only because _your_ godfather provoked him," Draco argued. "Are you seriously saying you don't see it? He's done nothing but sulk and whine and moan ever since we started planning this wedding!"

"Oh, and your father's been nothing but supportive, right?" Harry spat. "He nearly hexed me when we broke the news to him! Hell, I'm just lucky your mum held him back!"

"Now, wait a minute..." Sirius began uncertainly.

Lucius was starting to look faintly concerned as well. "Gentlemen," he tried, clearing his throat meaningfully. "Why don't we all sit down and..."

But they weren't listening now. Harry was glaring, Draco's eyes were flashing and the tension hung thick in the air. After days and weeks of stressing over handling their families, they were finally starting to turn on each other. "This is so bloody typical," Harry snapped. "You can't hear a thing against him, can you? Even when he's absolutely in the wrong, you can't step up and tell him to stop being a complete twat!"

"Don't talk about my father like that!" Draco snarled, barging into Harry's space. "And how dare you stand there and point fingers at me when you can't even stand up to your godfather? No, _he's_ allowed to insult my family; _he's_ allowed to cast aspersions on us but the second _we_ react..."

"We? Us?" Harry sneered. "So there are sides now? It's funny, I was under the impression you and I were in this together."

Draco's mouth twisted. "You know what, Potter? So was I. Clearly, I was mistaken."

"So that's the way it is. Well, guess what? I don't want to play this game. _This_ is not what I wanted and I'm not so sure I can do this."

"Neither am I."

"It's not supposed to be like this. This...it's too hard."

"I...I agree."

"What?!" Sirius squawked.

For once, even Lucius looked somewhat blindsided. "Now, that's not necess..."

"Fine then," Harry declared, swallowing painfully. But when he spoke again, his voice was firm and his eyes were hard. "The wedding's off."

"Oh dear," Narcissa murmured softly.

Draco sneered and took off the ring, tossing it at his now ex fiancé. "Fine by me," he replied coldly. "Goodbye, Potter. And don't come back."

"Believe me, I won't!" Harry belted back.

And then with rigid backs and suspiciously damp eyes, they turned their back on each other and stormed off— Draco up the stairs, and Harry out the door. Sirius and Lucius stared in stunned, horrified silence. The faint echo of the door slamming seemed to go on forever.

Narcissa sighed heavily and Vanished the linen swatches. "I hope you two are happy now," she said coldly, before turning on her heel and storming out as well.

Lucius winced as somewhere in the Manor, another door slammed shut.

* * *

><p>Lucius sat in his study later that night, twirling a glass of Firewhisky in his fingers. He was...unsettled, and while he was not familiar with the tense, uncomfortable feeling in his gut, he deduced that at least a part of it was guilt. The house-elves had reported that Draco was still in his quarters, gazing morosely out of the window with a picture of Potter clutched to his chest.<p>

Lucius winced and drained the glass. He decided there and then that he was not a fan of this guilt...thing. It was most unpleasant.

The door clicked open and Lucius' gaze darted up hopefully. He really hoped Cissa had decided to emerge from her own rooms and deign to speak to him again. He really could have used her sage advice in this trying time. Unfortunately luck was not on his side.

"Malfoy," Black greeted gruffly, inviting himself in.

"What are you doing here?" Lucius grumbled.

Black sighed and flopped down in an armchair, pouring himself a glass. "I've done a lot of shite stuff in my life," he began without preamble. "Well, not as much as you of course, but bad enough— take my word for it."

Lucius felt his fists clench on instinct, but Black being the oblivious twat that he was, continued yammering.

"But I have never, ever broken up two kids in love before," he finished quietly. His sharp, brown eyes met Lucius' stoic, grey gaze. "I'm guessing this is a first for you too."

Lucius got up to pace. "Draco is distraught," he muttered.

"Harry too," Black affirmed morosely. "I can't even get him to talk to me. He just sits there moping like a sodding girl."

Lucius bit back the urge to offer a scathing diatribe about Potter being the one to call things off in the first place. That wouldn't do, not now. Besides, he was man enough to admit that part of it was his fault. Mostly Black's, of course. But Lucius could have shown a little more restraint.

"Perhaps there is some common ground here after all," he offered finally. "You and I may not see eye to eye on...well, anything. But we do put a lot of stock in family. I suppose what I'm saying is..." Lucius sighed heavily. This was so _very_ unpleasant. Draco best appreciate everything he went through for him. "You may give the first speech at the wedding if you really wish to."

Black sat up, looking so much like a hopeful mutt that Lucius had to resist the urge to offer him a biscuit. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he demanded.

Lucius nodded tersely. "It won't be easy but between the two of us, I'm sure we can get my son and your fool of a godson to see sense. The only question is how."

* * *

><p>"God <em>damn <em>it, Sirius," Harry growled as he checked his watch. His godfather was really not one of his favourite people right now.

There Harry was, minding his own business—huddling in bed and wondering just how and why his life had fallen apart in the blink of an eye. Then Sirius had demanded that he pull himself together and show up at The Twilight Hour for dinner and a drink or two.

Harry had been waiting in the ritzy restaurant for twenty minutes now and there was still no sign of Sirius. And to make matters even worse, Sirius had picked the one place Harry absolutely did not want to be in right now. The Twilight Hour was where he had proposed to Draco a few months ago. Right here, at this very table. Harry sighed wearily. What were the odds? They had been so happy. Everything had been perfect. And look how it had all turned out.

Not for the first time, he cursed himself for saying those awful things to Draco. It had all happened so fast and everything had been so stressful lately. It had seemed like a good idea to end things at the time. But it wasn't. It was the biggest mistake he had ever made and for the life of him, Harry didn't know how to fix it. If he could take it back now, he'd do it in a heartbeat. If he could just see Draco once more, he'd tell him...

"Harry?"

Harry jerked back to reality. The person standing in front of him made his jaw drop and his heart clench.

Draco stood there uncertainly, impeccably dressed and as collected as ever. But the slight redness around his eyes gave him away. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Father said..."

"I'm sorry."

Harry stood up and approached his fiancé with his heart in his throat. If someone had asked him ten seconds ago, how he planned to fix the mess his life had become, he wouldn't have had an answer. But seeing Draco here, standing right in front of him...just like that, Harry knew. He knew what he needed to do and he knew he needed to do it now. It was either this or a life without Draco and the latter was simply not an option.

"I was a prat and a wanker and you have every right to hate me," he rambled. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled, I'm sorry I made you choose, I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm just _so_ bloody sorry I called of our wedding. It was the worst thing I could have done and I did it anyway and I hate myself a lot right now but if you would just come here and kiss me again, I reckon I'll be able to wake up tomorrow and face myself in the mirror. And if you decide you don't want anything to do with me anymore, that's fine too except I'm not really sure I can go on without you in my life. So...yeah. No pressure."

Draco blinked dazedly as he finally tamped down. "That was a lot of words," he commented finally.

Fair enough. Harry racked his brains for a succinct summary. "I love you," he declared firmly. Yes, that worked.

"Oh," Draco replied softly. "Well, thank Merlin for that."

And then he was in Harry's arms and they were kissing and Draco's fingers were at his nape and Harry's whole world was right again. He tightened his grip and deepened the kiss, determined to never let Draco out of his sight ever again. This had been the worst day of his life, bar none and it was never happening again.

"I'm sorry too," Draco murmured against his lips. "I said some horrible things to you. And Sirius. He's...not perfect but he is your family. I shouldn't have asked you to choose. I'm sorry Harry, and I promise you it will never happen again."

"No, it won't," Harry agreed firmly. "When I chose you, I chose everything that comes with the package. Your father's never going to be my favourite person in the world but I'll be damned if I let him come between us. Or Sirius. This is about you and me now. It's about us."

"Us," Draco agreed softly, leaning in for another kiss.

They were so caught up in each other that it took the server a few minutes to get their attention. "The Malfoy- Potters, I presume?" he enquired politely. "The gentlemen who booked your table left these at the bar for you." Harry and Draco frowned as they accepted the letters. Draco gestured at Harry to open his first.

_"Harry,"_ Harry read out loud. _"His Ponciness and I had a talk about stuff. Long story short, we fixed it. Draco's a good kid, all things considered, and if he makes you happy that's good enough for me. You deserve this and no-one's going to take that from you while I'm around— especially me. I've got your back, godson. Sincerely, Snuffles._

_PS: I noticed you were running low on lube, so I restocked your cabinet. You're welcome."_

Draco snickered and Harry grimaced, folding the letter up hastily. "What's yours say?" he asked Draco.

_"Draco,"_ Draco commenced reading. _"This was not my idea, the mutt wore me down. That being said, I have decided to be the bigger man and accept that he is an incorrigible nuisance who will haunt my every living moment until the day I die. I would put up with a thousand Sirius Blacks for your happiness. You are my son. Never doubt that I love you. Signed, Your Father (Lord Lucius Malfoy of the Most Esteemed House of Malfoy)._

_PS: Please tell your mother I fixed it. She is still not speaking to me."_

Draco managed a choked little laugh as he folded up the note. "Well, I suppose we have their blessing after all," he said.

"Took long enough," Harry muttered. He pulled Draco close again, holding him close. "Never again, yeah?"

"Never again," Draco agreed with a smile. "And while we're on the subject, I believe you have something that belongs to me."

Harry laughed and slipped the ring on his finger for the second time. His heart soared like a Firebolt as held his fiancé in his arms and kissed him again.

* * *

><p>Over at the bar, two men sat under a Notice Me Not Charm— watching the heart-warming scene unfold before them with a curious blend of fulfillment, triumph and nausea.<p>

"We are the best fathers in the world," Sirius declared.

"Indeed," Lucius agreed with a shudder of disgust. "If your godson doesn't get his tongue out of my son's mouth in the next five seconds, I will hex his skin off."

"Oh, lighten up," Sirius scoffed. "You and Cissy were a lot worse when you got engaged."

"We were never that indecent, Black. I'll have you know..."

"The Trophy Room? Your father's study? _My_ father's study? The..."

"You've made your point."

Sirius snickered and downed his drink. "Well, you did good tonight, Your Blondeness. I reckon we can make this work after all."

"I suppose. As long as you stay off the good furniture."

"Oi! I thought we agreed on nixing the dog cracks."

"Give me three a day and I'll pay for the wedding."

"One."

"Two. Take it or leave it."

"Ugh, fine."

"There's a good boy."

**END**


	132. Pumpkin Juice & Pesky Portraits

**Written for the prompt: Iced/Chilled drinks. **

* * *

><p>"I really do appreciate you making the time to help me with this, Mr Potter," Narcissa said as she escorted the young man to the West Wing. "I'm told your curse breaking services are in especially high demand."<p>

Harry Potter smiled in reply, looking endearingly young and bashful for a man of his calibre. "It's no trouble, Mrs Malfoy," he insisted. "It's the least I can do after..."

Narcissa made an elegant yet dismissive gesture, indicating that there was no need to speak of that time in the Forest. It hardly does to dwell on the past. "Now then," she went on, as they entered the parlour. "I'm not particularly attached to any of the...items in question. They do come hand in hand with some rather nasty curses. However, if anything in this wreckage is salvageable..."

"I'll stick to neutralising the curses before destroying anything," Harry promised, sizing up some of the antiques set about the space. Cursed or not, he reckoned most of the tapestries in this room were worth a small fortune.

"As you should, you scoundrel!"

The shrill snap cut abruptly into the conversation. Harry whirled around in alarm, almost missing Narcissa's weary sigh as his gaze settled on a portrait. A stately, imperious face peered down at him, with an all too familiar expression of disdain. Sharp eyes flashed and narrowed as they sized him up. "Some of these heirlooms are worth more than your monthly wages," the elderly matron in the painting informed him with a sneer.

Narcissa pursed her lips in evident displeasure. "Mr Potter, I don't believe you've had the _pleasure_," she drawled. "May I introduce my...mother-in-law, Madame Patricia Malfoy."

"Ha!" Patricia snapped, turning on Narcissa now. "I'll bet _that_ was hard for you to spit out, you vapid little tart. Don't think I can't catch your impudence just because I'm languishing in this canvas monstrosity! I may be dead but I'm not feeble minded!"

"As you say, Madame," Narcissa replied tersely.

"And to _think_ my Lucius could have married a Duchess!" Patricia railed on. "I begged him to reconsider but oh _no_, he was in love! With one of the Black sisters, no less! Harlots, the lot of you! _Harlots_, I say!"

Harry's eyes widened and he took a prudent step back, but Narcissa merely arched an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'll leave you to it then," she informed him dryly. "And by the way," she added in a discreet whisper. "If something...unfortunate were to happen to that portrait— a stray Incendio_,_ perhaps— let's just say, it wouldn't be the _worst_ thing in the world."

Harry stared dumbly as she slipped a Galleon in his palm and glided off, leaving him alone in a room full of cursed odds and ends— not to mention her very irate mother-in-law.

"Careful with that tapestry!" Patricia shrieked, apparently on a roll. "And don't even think about nicking any of that silverware! It belonged to my great grandmother, you...you _roustabout!"_

Harry echoed Narcissa's sigh. This was going to be a tough job.

* * *

><p>Draco had intended to stay in his rooms for as long as Potter infested the Manor. He had no desire to even see, let alone speak to, his ex school rival and he couldn't even fathom why Mother had insisted on <em>his<em> presence for the curse breaking stint when that ghastly Bill Weasley would have sufficed.

Nonetheless, his curiosity eventually won out. He hadn't seen Potter since... well, let's say for a _while_ now and it would be interesting to see what time had made of his old nemesis. So, Draco made his way downstairs, cast a quick Notice Me Not Charm, grabbed a chilled bottle of pumpkin juice and settled down to observe.

Ten minutes later, he had to admit he was having trouble looking away. Potter was looking rather fit. His lanky form had given way to a lean, sculpted frame and tones muscles— something Draco had ample opportunity to ogle considering the man had already divested himself of his robes and tie and rolled up his sleeves for good measure. Evidently, curse breaking was hard work. Nevertheless, Potter worked with stoic, single minded concentration— casting efficient spells, diverting complex and ancient spell traps and rendering the items harmless. It was... interesting to watch. The process, that is. Not Potter. Or his muscles.

Potter was a prat anyway.

That being said, he had to give the man credit. Anyone who could work with Grand'Mere Patricia screeching like a bag of cats in the background deserved his grudging respect. Amusing as it was, Draco wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.

So, Draco decided to do the polite thing and offer assistance. He took the Charm off and strode into the parlour.

"...a mudblood in my ancestral home!" Patricia raged. "I just thank Merlin I didn't live to see it! And don't you deny it, boy. You're clearly not a pure blood, are you? Why, in my day your kind..."

Potter's back was turned and he was focused on a jewellery box but Draco could see how tense his shoulders were and how tightly he clenched his fists. Danger signs that he was well acquainted with. Prudently, Draco decided to announce his presence lest Potter should take it upon himself to decimate his harridan of a grandmother.

"Good afternoon, Grand'Mere," he greeted, making a polite bow. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Potter's double take. Draco suppressed a smirk and kept his attention on the portrait. Patricia's contemptuous sneer dissipated at once. Her eyes brightened and she gazed at him with something almost akin to affection.

"Draco, _mon cher_," she purred. "What brings you down here?"

"The pleasure of your company, of course," Draco replied. Potter snorted disbelievingly, earning another glare from Patricia.

"It is good of you to come and visit your Grand'Mere," she sniffed. "Of course, one could argue that you would visit more often if your _mother_ hadn't relegated me to this accursed room, to languish in my isolation..."

"Ah, not to change the subject," Draco broke in hastily because Salazar help him, he was _not_ going down this road again, "but I noticed one of the house elves sneaking around the East Dining Room a while back. You know, where the family silverware is? I'm sure it's nothing but..."

Patricia gasped in horror. "You will do well to never take the help for granted, my boy," she hissed, casting a disparaging glance in Harry's general direction. "I'll return shortly. In the meantime, keep an eye on things here."

Draco smirked and bowed in acquiescence. "As you wish, Madame."

Patricia disappeared at once, no doubt already inhabiting her other portrait and on the lookout for unsuspecting elves. Draco made a mental note to give them a day off in the near future.

A sudden laugh broke him out of his musings. When he turned around, Potter was grinning at him. "That was bloody impressive," he offered, green eyes twinkling with mirth. "You're a life saver, Malfoy."

Draco flushed at the frank compliment. "It was nothing," he demurred. "She's really not so terrible." Potter raised an unconvinced eyebrow and Draco felt his lips twitch in a smile. "Well, not to everyone," he amended.

Potter chuckled again. "Well, thank you," he said. "At least I can get on with it now. I've been here two hours and I hardly got anything done with her breathing down my neck."

"It does look like hard work," Draco agreed. On a whim, he offered Potter his pumpkin juice. "Take it," he insisted, when Potter looked up in surprise. "You need it more than I do."

Potter's eyes brightened and he grinned, accepting the proffered beverage gratefully. "You're a godsend," he declared fervently. "Godric's honour, Malfoy, I could just kiss you."

Draco's eyes widened and his blush made an unexpected comeback. His eyes followed the line of Potter's throat as he drank heartily. A single drop of moisture tracked its way from the bottle to Potter's lips and down that same, slender throat, sliding down the prominent Adam's apple and settling in the hollow of Potter's collarbone. Draco's mouth watered in response and his tongue darted out instinctively, wanting to follow that path all the way down to...

His wayward thoughts finally caught up to him and Draco flush deepened with sheer mortification. Good grief, what was _wrong_with him?

"Well, goodbye then," he blurted, turning to flee from the scene.

Potter was faster. He snagged Draco's sleeve and pulled him back. Draco squeaked in surprise as he was yanked back, tumbling right into a toned chest as strong hands wrapped around his waist.

"What's the hurry?" Potter whispered in his ear. His hands slipped down Draco's hips as he spoke, exploring his slim body rather boldly now.

A pleasant shiver crept down Draco's spine, seemingly in tandem with Potter's touches. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he was having trouble stringing words together.

"I...I was..."

Potter's hands traced his waist and he swallowed audibly, feeling inexplicably bashful. It was only Potter, for Merlin's sake. But why did Potter have to look at him like _that? _Draco dampened his lips unconsciously, only realising what he was doing when Potter's grip tightened.

"You look _good_, Malfoy," Potter growled. His thumbs stroked tantalising circles against Draco's hipbones. "And I was only half joking before. I _really_ want to kiss you right now."

Draco's breath hitched and he pushed back against Potter's sturdy frame, angling his head for better access to that all too tempting mouth. "Why don't you?"

"Because if that harpy comes back and screams at me for defiling her precious grandson, I might just take your mum up on her offer."

Draco laugh turned to a hiss of approval as Potter resumed his idle petting. "You know," he murmured coyly, shifting subtly against those strong, calloused fingers. "I'm fairly certain Grand'Mere doesn't have an adjoining portrait in _my_ chambers."

"Oh?" He could feel Potter's grin against his neck. "Why don't we find out?"

Draco mirrored Potter's salacious smile and spirited him away without another word.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, Narcissa could be found lounging in that same parlour, treating herself to a well earned Chardonnay. She had seen neither hair nor hide of Draco or Harry ever since the two of them had...retired to Draco's bedroom.<p>

So far, so good.

"So, this Potter boy..."

Narcissa hid her smirk with another sip. She had been wondering when Patricia would make her presence felt again.

"What about him?" she enquired casually.

"He is respectable?" Patricia demanded suspiciously.

"One of the most renowned young wizards of our time, actually," Narcissa replied.

"Well placed, then?"

"His fortune rivals ours, if that's what you're so subtly enquiring about."

Apparently it was, because Patricia looked more than impressed. She leaned forward in her gilded frame, dark eyes glinting in anticipation. "And he's...taken with my grandson, is he?"

"Oh, I'd say he's very enamoured of _my_ son, yes."

"Ah." Patricia's imperious features gave way to a sly smile. "It seems I underestimated you, _ma fille. _Perhaps Lucius made the right choice, after all."

"Oh, he did, Madame," Narcissa agreed pleasantly. "And while we're on the subject? If you ever call me a 'harlot' again, there's a nice, cozy little nook in the attic just waiting for you."

A sharp intake of breath. A beat of silence. An audible swallow.

"Understood," Patricia acquiesced quietly.

Narcissa smiled and poured herself another glass of wine.

_Victory, at last._


	133. Tarantulas and Teamwork

**Written for the prompts: "It's a trap!", Daphne Greengrass and Religion.**

* * *

><p>"I'm just going to come out and ask," a visibly hyperventilating Ron declared as he crouched on a table for dear life. "What kind of evil, soulless <em>monster<em> brings a tarantula into a shared living space?"

His accusing gaze turned to the trio of Slytherins, huddled in various corners of the room. Zabini was perched on a sofa, wand held aloft while Nott took refuge on a table— not unlike Ron himself. Malfoy, however took a moment to emerge from Harry's neck to scowl at him.

"Don't put this on us!" he snapped. "We had nothing to do with it!"

"He's not accusing you, love," Harry placated, patting his boyfriend's back with one hand and balancing them on the rickety ledge with the other. "He's just very upset."

"I am not upset!" Ron screeched. "I'm furious! There's a giant, bird eating spider in the Common Room!"

The tarantula in question wasn't doing much. At the moment, it was just tottering around the Eighth Year Common Room on its hairy (monstrous) legs, clicking enquiringly and observing everything with its eight, sharp, (horrifying) beady eyes. If it found the concept of six grown men cowering and whimpering on various pieces of furniture a tiny bit strange, it didn't comment.

"None of us are too happy about this, Weasley," Nott muttered. He peered over the table hopefully. "I can't see it anymore. Maybe it died."

"No!" Ron shook his head vehemently. "It's a trap! That's what it wants you to think!"

"Well, someone do something," Zabini demanded angrily. "We can't stay here forever!"

Neville snorted and muttered 'watch me' under his breath. Zabini ignored him and turned to Harry. "You! Resident Hero and Vanquisher of all Things Creepy," he announced firmly. "This is your cue."

"Now, wait just a minute!" Harry sputtered indignantly. "Why the hell should I go down there?"

"You won a war!" Nott contested.

"A _small_ war. _That_ is a big spider."

"It's a moot point," Malfoy spoke up again, tightening his grip on Harry. "He's not going down there to deal with that _beast _because I forbid it. He's retired from the Hero business and you lot can leave him alone. Make Longbottom do it."

"Oi!" Neville yelped.

"Yes!" Zabini cheered. "Bring in the spare!"

"I am not the spare!" Neville snapped.

"Just smack it with one of your Herbology books," Nott urged, trying to shove him off the table.

"No!" Neville yelped, holding on for dear life.

"Man up, Longbottom!" Zabini barked. "You skewered a snake, didn't you? I can't believe you're scared of one measly spider!"

"Then why don't you kill it?" Neville snapped.

Zabini lifted his chin and crossed his arms defensively. "I would, but it just happens to be against my religion."

Malfoy and Nott groaned in tandem. "You can't use that excuse for everything," Nott scolded. "Not killing the spider, taking the last muffin..."

"...faffing off on Prefect Duty," Malfoy added.

"Don't mock my faith, you heretics!"

"We're going to die here," Ron declared sullenly. The spider meandered over to his table and he shuddered, pulling his legs up. "We're going to die here and that thing is going to dance on our corpses!"

"No, we're not," Harry announced. He still paled when he eyed the monster in their midst but his eyes glinted with determination. "Nott's right. We survived a war. We'll get through this. We just have to work together."

The rest of the boys straightened up. Shoulders straightened, nods of determination were exchanged and wands lifted. "What's your plan?" Neville asked.

"Here's what we'll do," Harry said. "I'll jump down there and distract it. Ron, Nott and Zabini will cast the strongest Body Bind hexes they can. And Neville will smack it with the Herbology book. Draco can finish things off with a Reducto."

There was a tense silence for a while. Then, as one, they all came together. "Okay," Neville acquiesced quietly. He Summoned a behemoth Herbology tome from the dorm and held it up like a battle-axe. Zabini lifted his wand, Nott pursed his lips and Ron paled a little more but nodded nonetheless. Malfoy pulled Harry over and pressed a fierce kiss to his lips. "Be careful out there," he whispered fervently.

Harry nodded and indulged himself in one more kiss...

...and then he jumped into the fray.

There was a series of flashes and bangs. Smoke rose, curses echoed and shouts sounded across the Common Room. By the time they were done and the chaos had cleared, Harry was taking cover under a sofa, the Herbology text was on the floor with a smouldering hole in the middle and the spider...

"Ugh," Ron grimaced. "Malfoy, you were supposed to use a Reducto."

"I did," Malfoy replied. "Right after the Incendio."

"Is it dead?" Nott demanded. He was still shaking. "Please just tell me it's dead."

"It's dead," Harry muttered grimly. "It's over. We won."

"Yes!" Zabini cheered, alighting from the sofa. "Oh sweet floor, I missed you so much."

Ron grinned and pocketed his wand. "I can't believe we did it," he exclaimed. "That spider didn't stand a chance!"

Harry smiled and wrapped an arm around Malfoy, helping him down. "It's all about teamwork," he said with a smile. Malfoy smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss.

And they stayed there for a while—exchanging congratulations, clapping each other on the back and re-enacting some of their more daring escapades. That is, until someone else entered the Common Room.

"Oh, here you all are," Daphne Greengrass exclaimed, stopping in her tracks as she noticed them together. "We were wondering what all the noise was about."

"Daphne, you won't believe what just happened," Nott began. "So there we were..."

Daphne shook her head. "I'd really like to stay and chat, but we have a bit of a crisis," she explained politely. "Apparently, Pansy's pet tarantula is missing."

A pin drop could have shattered the resounding silence.

"What?" Ron croaked, paling all over again. Malfoy elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"A tarantula, you said?" Neville enquired politely, sliding the ruined Herbology text out of sight. "What does it look like?"

"Charlotte's rather hard to miss," Daphne sighed. "We can't find her anywhere. Just let us know if you see her, okay?"

She withdrew with a parting nod, leaving a group of very awkward, somewhat embarrassed young men in her wake.

"So..." Harry cleared his throat and scrubbed an uneasy hand through his hair. "Who wants to break the news to Parkinson?"

"I would," Zabini said promptly. "But it's against my religion."


	134. Whiny Werewolf

**Wee drabble written for the following prompts: gasp, howl, werewolf, night, potion, 'Indulge in dark' and Peanut butter.**

**Warning(s): Werewolf!Harry**

* * *

><p>The howling commenced at the dark, ominous hour of midnight. To the uninformed, it was a terrifying sound— the angry, ravaging call of an unnatural creature out to prey on the unsuspecting. It was a sound that inspired fear and terror, a primal warning that heralded great danger.<p>

To Draco, it was just annoying.

Cursing a blue streak, he pushed his comfortable covers off and trudged out of bed, stalking towards the window. "For Merlin's sake!" he snapped, glaring down at the source of all his misery. "What do you want now, you scruffy menace?"

The werewolf spotted him and yelped in delight. Draco raised an eyebrow as the menacing creature wagged its tail and pranced about, upsetting a flower pot in its excitement. Draco suppressed a groan. His garden always looked a fright after Harry's visits.

"Did we not talk about this last time?" he asked dryly. "Just because it's your time of the month, doesn't mean you can come bother me whenever you please."

Harry whined and hunkered down on his front paws, gazing up at him imploringly. Draco pursed his lips and fought to look stern. "Go home," he ordered firmly. "It's late and I'm in no mood to indulge your dark, twisted mongrel needs. Am I understood?"

Harry yipped and wagged his tail persistently. Draco resolved to go to bed with a Dreamless Sleep Potion from now on.

"I said I'm not going to play with you," he repeated firmly. "You may see me when you're human again— well, as human as you get anyway."

Harry huffed and plopped down on the ground, flattening his ears to glower at Draco. It really was amazing that even in this terrifying form, Harry still gave the impression of a scruffy, sulky mutt. It would have made for a rather endearing sight, if it wasn't two in the bleeding morning. Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I'm going to bed," he informed Harry. "You can chase the peacocks if you like. They love it when you sneak up on them."

He wasn't even halfway to the bed when the howls broke out again. Sharp, high pitched, painfully shrill and clearly meant to irk him— Draco cringed at the ruckus. His neighbours would have his head for this. He scowled and marched back to the window, poking his head out to yell at his errant mutt again.

"Stop that."

Harry just tipped his massive, shaggy head back and continued yowling.

"Potter, I mean it! Cease that racket at once!"

More yowling. And by Merlin, it was loud!

Draco lost his temper. He looked around his bedroom and grabbed the first item in sight. It just happened to be a leather boot. Draco did what came naturally. "I said shut it!" he yelled and lobbed it at the wolf.

Harry's howl ended in an abrupt yelp as the boot smacked his snout. Draco winced at the impact. Damn it! He hadn't been aiming for a hit!

"Okay, _that_ was clearly a mistake," he argued. "You _know_ I wasn't trying to hit you. I was just..."

Harry whined fretfully. His ears drooped, his tail disappeared between his legs and he stared at Draco with hurt, reproachful eyes.

Draco groaned and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Potter, come on. We both know you're not really hurt, so stop with the guilt trip already."

Harry emitted another mournful whine. Then he shuffled around, turned his back on Draco and flopped down on all fours like a defeated floor rug.

This, Draco decided, was just plain unfair.

"Fine," he grumbled. "You win, alright?"

Potter refused to turn around again but the interested twitch of his ears gave him away. The sneaky, manipulative shite. Draco had half a mind to just leave him there but then Harry whimpered sadly and he had to admit defeat.

Damn it.

With a put upon sigh, Draco retrieved his robe and slippers, grabbed a jar of Harry's favourite peanut butter (smooth, not chunky) from the kitchen and went outside.

Harry didn't acknowledge his presence, choosing instead to sulk and gnaw at the offending boot. Draco suppressed a sigh at the tooth marks in the Italian leather finishing. Next time, he would throw a slipper at his boyfriend.

"Okay, I'm here," Draco declared, flopping down next to the offended canine. "Do you want to play fetch? Or we could go scare the peacocks again."

Harry huffed and turned away from him.

Right. Time to bring out the bribery. Draco unscrewed the lid of the jar and smeared a dollop of peanut butter on his fingers. "I have something for you," he cajoled, waving the jar in Harry's face. "Come on, you know you want some of this."

Harry twitched slightly but made no move to accept the offering.

"Or I could just take it ba—**ack!"**

Draco gasped as Harry tackled him and proceeded to lick the peanut butter with great enthusiasm. "Ugh!" he protested with a grimace. "You hairy brute! You're slobbering all over me!"

Harry decided this was as good an invitation as any. Draco sputtered in protest as two gigantic paws planted themselves on his shoulders. By the time Harry was done licking his face, he was sopping wet and more than a little irate.

"Alright!" he snapped, struggling to sit up. "You win!"

Harry's tongue lolled out happily and he treated himself to another lick. Draco rolled his eyes and scratched his silly mutt behind the ears. "The things I do for you," he groused. Not that he would have it any other way...

...but Harry didn't need to know that.

The prat got away with enough as it was.


	135. Lily's Letter

**It's time for Christmas one shots! Here's an early Christmas/ I'm very sorry for having gone AWOL one shot for you lovelies. I wrote this last year and never got around to posting it. Well, better late than never. I hope to be very good about all my Christmas/winter fic posting this year around and I'll do my best to post something as often as I can for you guys.**

**Tis the season to be Drarry, after all.**

**And here's a kid fic to start you off.**

**Happy holidays!**

* * *

><p>Christmas had come and gone with all the customary chaos and excitement of the season. Between presents and carols, family and friends, eggnog and more eggnog it had been a wonderful time of year. Harry was rather sorry to see it end.<p>

He walked into his study late at night, intending to start working on his newest case files when a glittery pink envelope caught his attention. Harry leaned over to take a look at the address.

_Santa Claus_  
><em>1, Reindeer Lane<em>  
><em>The North Pole<em>

That was odd. He was sure the kids had sent their letters to Santa _well _before Christmas. In fact, he had sent the owls out himself. Had he missed one somehow?

Feeling decidedly guilty, Harry decided to open it. There was a chance he could still run out and buy a present, maybe salvage the situation with an "Oh Santa gave this to me to give to you, but I completely forgot" or something...

He pried the letter open and recognized the loopy curvy penmanship of his youngest. This was from Lily.

But Lily had received all her presents...Harry frowned and scanned the letter, wondering what this was all about. The perplexed frown on his face gave way to an amused grin as he read further. By the time he was done, he had graduated to random chuckling fits. Of all the vastly amusing things Lily had done, this certainly made the top of the list.

Draco had to see this.

"Draco!" Harry called out to his husband. "Oi, Draco! Where are you?"

"What are you hollering about?" Draco demanded, frowning as he came up the stairs. "I just put the kids to bed and here_you _are making enough noise for…"

Harry grinned and handed him the letter. "You need to see this."

"What is it?"

"Lily wrote another letter to Santa."

"So why…"

Go on, read it," Harry insisted. "Trust me, it's worth it."

Draco still looked confused, but he took the letter and started reading it out aloud.

_Dear Santa,_

_We need to talk._

_Thank you getting me all the presents I asked for in my first letter. I love the Pygmy Puff best. His name is Bobby. I let him sleep in my bed 'cause he's afraid of the dark. Al's afraid of the dark too but he says it's because there's a troll living under his bed. I don't think there is. Daddy says it's his imagination (Aunt Mione spelled that out for me). _

_Al's a big baby._

_Let's talk about my Daddy. My Daddy is very nice and tall and handsome. He has soft hair and nice eyes and the best smile. He's a Healer and makes people better when they're sick. _

_Papa loves him very much. He's always kissing and hugging Daddy when he thinks we're not looking. Me and Uncle Ron think its gross but I guess it's okay because they love each other. Aunt Mione says that Papa liked Daddy best in school. He followed him everywhere. Daddy likes that story. He laughs when she tells it. Papa just goes red and talks about Quidditch._

_Papa will get really, **really** mad at you if he finds out you kissed Daddy. That wasn't nice, Santa. I left milk and cookies for you. **Not Daddy.** He's **my** Daddy and you can't have him. You can't hug him or kiss him. _

_I saw him first. _

_Please don't take Daddy to the North Pole. He reads me stories and takes me flying and tucks me in at night. If you take him away, he can't do any of that. And Papa will miss him and get sad. _

_So you can't have him. Ever._

_Sorry, Santa._

_You can have Jamie if you like. _

_Love_  
><em>Lily.<em>

_PS: Bobby told me he needs a friend. Can you bring a girl puff next time? Say hi to the elves for me!_

By the time Draco finished Lily's indignant missive, he was chuckling alongside Harry. "Well, it looks like we'll need to have a little talk with our daughter in the morning," he said with a smile.

Harry shook his head fondly and pulled Draco in for a kiss. "Just so you know," he murmured. "I'd be heartbroken if Santa took you away."

Draco rolled his eyes and brushed his lips against Harry's. "Maybe next time, 'Santa' could keep his hands to himself. Then we wouldn't have this situation on our hands, don't you think?"

"I thought you were my Christmas present," Harry protested. Draco laughed and kissed him again before pushing him off gently. "Go to bed," he ordered. "I'll be up in a minute."

He watched Harry take off before padding over to Lily's room. Lily was fast asleep. All Draco could see was a nest of auburn curls and a small hand wrapped around a slumbering Pygmy Puff. He smiled softly before folding up the letter and putting it safely in his pocket.

This one was a keeper.

Then he knelt down and stroked his little girl's hair back, pressing a soft kiss to her head. "Daddy loves you too, princess. He's not going anywhere."

Lily mumbled and curled into his arm, settling comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Draco kissed her cheek gently before disentangling himself and leaving quietly.

Merry Christmas, indeed. And to think, he had a lifetime of them to look forward to with his family. Draco hummed an old carol as he made his way back to his own room. Harry would probably be in bed waiting for him. Draco grinned at that happy thought and quickened his pace.

After all, 'Santa' owed him a Christmas present too.


	136. Lotion in the Basket

**Written for slythindor100's Christmas Challenge, Prompt 4: Hogsmeade and dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge 2014 using the prompts: Holly, Mistletoe, Mulled Cider and Christmas Market. This ficlet probably won't make sense if you're not at least a little familiar with the whole lotion-basket Hannibal Lecter thing. Basically, I just really wanted to use a dark, morbid prompt in a fluffy fic. I do this sometimes.**

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><p>"Teddy, stop faffing around and get back to work!"<p>

Draco's harassed bark of a command probably echoed through all of Hogsmeade. He scowled as his cousin hurriedly detached himself from the pretty blonde customer he'd been engaging with for the last twenty minutes and returned to Draco's side.

"Calm down, cousin," he grinned, running a hand through his messy blue hair. "It's not even close to rush hour yet. We've got all the time in the world for our beautiful buyers."

He flashed a charming grin at a gaggle of passing females. The girls giggled and waved back eagerly.

Draco huffed and went back to arranging the vials of ointments. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, setting up a stall at Hogsmeade's annual Christmas Market to get rid of his extra potions and the like. He had even concocted a few special draughts for the season— Peppermint Flavoured Sleeping Draughts, Holly Scented Calming Potions and several pints of mulled cider and assorted Christmas treats to go with the theme.

Unfortunately, Draco's assistant was a little _too_ customer focused— especially when the customers in question were pretty girls fresh out of Hogwarts.

"I didn't hire you to flirt with every young lady who walks past the stall," Draco informed him. "Now make yourself useful and put these lotions in those holiday baskets over there. Oh, and don't forget to tie them up with sprigs of holly."

Teddy stopped in his tracks as he carefully considered that last bit. He cocked his head, looking at Draco with renewed interest. "So, what you're saying is, you want me to put the lotion in the basket?"

Draco frowned as Teddy's lips twitched. "That's what I said," he agreed, fumbling distractedly with some mistletoe. "Now hurry up. We're already late setting up and..."

"Just one more time, for my understanding," Teddy cut in. He was grinning now, looking far too amused for Draco's liking. "You want me to put the _lotion_ _in the_ _basket?"_

Draco was going to lose his temper, he just knew it. "What are you, deaf? For the last time, yes! Put the lotion in the basket!"

At that point, Teddy pretty much lost it. He burst into laughter, holding his side and grabbing a counter to keep from falling on his face. Draco just stood there seething, watching his fifteen year old cousin have a fit and fighting the urge to hex him when...

"What's going on here?"

Draco turned around and his ire promptly dissipated as he looked into bright, green eyes. Harry was standing just by their stall, watching the scene with evident amusement. Just the sight of his warm smile and dark, messy hair brought a calming sense to Draco's stressful morning. A slight smile tugged his lips and the stiff set of his shoulders relaxed a little. Harry always had that effect on him.

Teddy however, just doubled up with laughter. "Harry, get this!" he sputtered. "Draco wants me to...to put the lotion in the **basket!"**

"Honestly, _what_ is that all about?" Draco exclaimed in exasperation.

Harry's lips twitched but he schooled his expression. "Grow up, Teddy," he scolded. "You're supposed to be working."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Good luck getting him to do anything around here," he said. Harry smiled and squeezed his hand gently. Draco returned the smile and squeezed back. "It's been a rough morning," he murmured.

Harry's hand brushed his jaw, tilting his face up. "You're doing great," he replied softly, brushing their lips together. "Everything will be just fine, love. I promise."

Draco hummed and deepened the kiss, letting Harry's touch soothe his frayed nerves. Harry's hand crept up to brush gently at his hair and Draco sighed in contentment. This wasn't so bad. In fact, he felt good as new.

"Oh, that's just great." Teddy declared dryly. "I'm not allowed to talk to the girls, but you two get to snog."

"Teddy, put the lotion in the basket," Draco mumbled, not even bothering to break the kiss and glare at him.

"Or you'll get the hose again," Harry agreed.


	137. Proud Tradition

**Written for the prompts: fireplace, mistletoe, Pureblood Yule Traditions and Roasting chestnuts on an open fire**

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><p>Lucius surveyed the opulent banquet hall of his ancestral home with smug satisfaction. Despite all the unpleasantness of the War, the proud tradition of the Malfoy Yule Ball still held strong. The champagne was flowing, the music was soft and lilting and there was more than one important dignitary in the mix of guests. This, Lucius decided, would work out splendidly.<p>

And then he turned around and it all went to Hades.

"Narcissa," Lucius hissed, narrowing his eyes at the appalling scene unfolding before him. "What is _that_ all about?"

"Hm?" Narcissa politely disengaged herself from Duchess Something-or-the-Other and glided over to his side. "What is it, darling?"

Lucius jerked his head to the right, indicating the source of his displeasure. "What on earth is _he _doing here? This affair is Invite Only!"

Potter stood a little ways off, chatting pleasantly with his son. Draco said something and Potter threw his head back and laughed. Then he slipped an arm— _actually slipped an arm_— around Draco's shoulders and drew him closer. Lucius felt his fists clench and his fingers itch for his wand.

"Oh dear," Narcissa sighed. "I was hoping you'd have a little more champagne in you before you came across them."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Now darling, do stay calm," she said, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. "I...may have neglected to mention that Mr Potter has been...ahem, _courting_ our Draco for the past several weeks."

**"What?!"**

"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed urgently. "Lower your voice."

"I forbid it," Lucius snapped back. "There will be no courting! Potter is a no good scoundrel with a lineage befitting a troll! And Draco is _barely_ of age."

"Lucius, he's twenty three," Narcissa replied with a put upon sigh. "We were married and _well _on our way to starting a family at that age."

That, understandably, did nothing to reassure Lucius. He turned around to glare daggers in Potter's back...

...only to witness something truly unspeakable.

"They are kissing," he managed in a furious sputter. "Narcissa, that vagabond is kissing _my_ son in my own _home!"_

"Honestly," Narcissa snapped. "They're standing under the mistletoe, Lucius! It's tradition. A Pureblood Yule tradition that our family has always treasured, I might add."

She had him on a technicality. It wouldn't do to interfere with tradition. That was hardly the Malfoy way. Lucius grudgingly subsided, still seething as he watched Potter wrap an arm around Draco's waist, indulging almost obscenely in the kiss. For Salazar's sake! Was the boy ever going to come up for air or not?

"Just remember, darling," Narcissa soothed him, with a smile in her voice. "It's all part of our proud and glorious tradition."

Potter of course, chose that exact moment to let a wayward hand trail down and squeeze Draco's backside.

Draco squeaked in surprise, Narcissa blushed and Lucius quite literally saw red. Promptly, he disentangled himself from his wife, straightened his shoulders and marched off, prepared to protect the family honour from Potter's vile intentions.

"Lucius!" Narcissa called after him in clear exasperation. "What on earth are you doing?!"

"Honouring a proud Yule tradition, my dear," Lucius called back. "I'm going to roast Potter's chestnuts on an open fire!"


	138. Doggy Did It

**Written for the prompts: Christmas Wreath, Spilt Eggnog, Pine Needles, Broken Ornaments, Paw Prints in the snow**

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><p>Draco gazed down at his little princess and tried his damndest to affect a stern expression. It was decidedly difficult— especially when all he wanted to do was pick her up and coo over her for hours— but this was a time for strict parenting measures. As much as he loved Lily, he did want to raise her right and lying was not going to be a part of it.<p>

"Now sweetheart, let's go over this one more time," he said, keeping his voice gentle but firm. Lily's big brown eyes widened and she stuck her thumb in her mouth as he knelt down in front of her. Draco's heart did that funny, loopy thing again and he had to take a moment, but eventually he composed himself and gamely carried on with his lecture. "You're not in trouble," he repeated. "But I won't have you lying to me. Now tell me the truth. Did you break this?"

He held up the shattered crystal ornament carefully in his fingers— the last remnants of a treasured Malfoy family heirloom. The evidence was overwhelming and yet Lily shook her head, her brown curls bouncing with the motion.

"No, Papa," she chirped.

Draco sighed wearily. This was going to be harder than he thought. "I suppose you didn't spill the eggnog Daddy set out either?"

Another curl bouncing head shake. Draco raised an eyebrow, making sure to maintain eye contact. Lily blinked at him but continued the defiant thumb sucking. Oh, she was good. But he hadn't survived seven years in Slytherin House by being a soft touch. Oh no. Draco was determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Lily," he declared, using the no nonsense voice he often adopted when dealing with his sons. Lily's behaviour had never warranted The Voice before, but she was hardly giving him a choice. "Let's go over the facts. I left you here alone for two minutes and when I came back, this ornament was broken, there was eggnog all over the floor and the wreath I put on the mantle just yesterday is gone too. Now if I'm wrong, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Doggy did it."

Draco sighed and raked a weary hand through his hair. "Princess, you know we don't have a dog."

"Doggy did it," Lily insisted firmly.

Really? Apparently, that was her story and she was sticking to it. Draco took a deep breath and attempted to reason with the child again. "Lily, I..."

A sudden bark interrupted him. Draco whipped around and Lily squealed in delight as a black, shaggy brute of a dog bounded in, tail wagging and tongue lolling. The beast barked happily on spotting them and bounded over to lick Lily— upsetting two tables and shattering a crystal vase in the process.

Draco stood there watching in dumb shock as Lily giggled and patted the mangy thing, prompting some more tail wagging. A few more ornaments went flying as the tree was violently shaken.

Finally, the dog decided that it had more homes to destroy. It licked Lily again, greeted Draco with an affable bark and promptly bounded out the door, leaving a haphazard trail of paw prints in the snow.

Draco stared after it, covered in pine needles still unable to formulate an appropriate response. He only started when Lily patted his knee.

"See?"

With that smug retort, she bounced off as well— presumably in search of the mutt.

A moment later, Harry poked his head in the door. "What on earth was that racket?" he asked.

Draco fixed him with a flat look. "Sirius came to visit," he replied dryly. "Oh, and by the way? We need more eggnog."


	139. Draco's Stocking

**Prompts: Unexpected gifts, stocking**

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><p>If there was one thing Draco loved about the season, it was finding a stocking stuffed with presents just for him on Christmas morning. It was a tradition that held many fond childhood memories for him, and sharing his favourite tradition with Harry just made it that much better. He'd been looking forward to this all year— him and Harry, sitting under the tree, exchanging little tokens of affection.<p>

So when Draco turned his stocking over and a shapeless lump of coal fell out, he was hardly pleased.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" he demanded, turning on his chuckling boyfriend. "It's not at all funny, Potter!"

"What?" Harry teased. "It's not my fault you were naughty this year."

Draco scowled and grabbed the piece of coal, fully intending to chuck it at the prat. Unfortunately, his plan was thwarted when the damned thing crumbled in his fingers. Draco cursed and opened his clenched palm...

...only to find an exquisitely crafted diamond ring sitting there.

His breath hitched and his soft gasp echoed in the silence of the room. For once in his life, he was utterly speechless.

Harry grinned and slid over, lifting his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "Not such an awful present now, is it?"

Draco just blinked dazedly, unable to respond.

Harry's teasing grin faded to something softer and his grip on Draco's hand tightened. "So what do you say?" he murmured. "Will you marry me?"

Draco's throat clenched and his vision blurred a bit, but he finally found words again.

"Yes."


	140. Our Way

**Tardy writer is tardy. Here's an old one shot of mine to tide you over, lovely readers. Hope everyone's having a good holiday season :D**

**Warnings for smut. Not fit for minors.**

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><p><em>One of the most gorgeous messes in the world is the mess made on Christmas Day.<em>

That's what they said anyway. Well, Harry would bet every Galleon he had that they were _not_thinking about his flat when they said it. He winced as he looked at the mess of wrapping paper, popcorn garlands and pine needles littered everywhere. His boyfriend was going to have a fit when he saw this. Then again, if he could just get this dumb tree to cooperate, there was a chance that Draco wouldn't have a total meltdown. All he had to do was get the lights working.

So Harry stood up on a rickety stool and pulled off the world's most ill-advised balancing act as he tried to rope a string of lights on top of the giant tree they had picked out a week before. Merlin, the thing was huge. It certainly hadn't looked so big in the shop. Nevertheless, Draco had smiled in delight and declared that it was perfect and when Draco smiled, Harry was hard pressed to deny him anything. Perhaps it was a good thing that Draco hadn't expressed the desire to visit the moon this Christmas. One smile and Harry would be stringing lights on a rocketship.

Thoughts of Draco were distracting enough on solid ground. On a wobbly piece of furniture, they were downright dangerous. Harry smiled dreamily as his musings on Draco's smile quickly gave way to thoughts of his plush, full lips, the way he bit down on them sometimes, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed and…

...and the stool lurched.

Harry's eyes widened and he just managed to squeak out an _uh oh_ before the whole world tilted sideways and he was falling headlong into the tree.

Draco was halfway up the stairs when he heard an almighty crash...from his flat.

"Of course," he sighed, making his way upstairs. He stepped in and deposited his shopping bags on the table before moving towards the living room in search of Harry.

And there he was. Wearing the tree.

Draco raised an eyebrow at his sheepish boyfriend. "Dare I ask?"

Harry blinked at him from a tangle of lights and pine. "Help?"

Draco shook his head and helped him up. "The Boy Who Lives thwarted by a tree. The irony just writes itself."

Harry grinned and gave him a playful shove. "You're the one who wanted this giant sequoia in our living room," he countered. "It's a wonder it stayed up so long in the first place."

Draco smirked and raised his wand. "Watch and learn, Potter." He made a show of waving complicated patterns in the air before casting a spell on the tree. It righted itself at once, settling down magnificently, smack bang in the middle of the room. Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded in satisfaction before shooting his boyfriend a smug look. "And that children, is why we have magic."

Harry was not impressed. "I could have done it with magic. Half the fun of Christmas is the mess of decorating." Perhaps his Muggle was showing or whatever, but Harry was a bit of a traditionalist when it came to the holidays. His early Christmases with the Dursleys had never been fun, but it was the one time of the year when even Privet Drive managed to radiate some sense of cheer. There was a roaring fire and a tree, and once in a while, Uncle Vernon could be heard humming Carols under his breath as he hung up the lights and put up gaudy outdoor decorations that made the neighbours cringe every time they walked by. The place was almost..._nice_ at Christmas. It had never been _his_Christmas though, and so it was that a young Harry had firmly resolved to have his own Christmas one day. _His_way. The right way.

Of course, Draco would disagree with his sound notions. "Here we go," he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I'm Harry Potter and I will not use magic to make Christmas the slightest bit more convenient. No, I'll just let the tree murder me instead."

Harry could never back down from a challenge. "Oh? Well, _I'm_Draco Malfoy and I'm scared of getting my hands dirty with a little hands-on decorating. Oh Merlin, what if I break a nail?"

He laughed as Draco swiped at him, only to find himself neatly wrapped up in Harry's arms. "Prat," he muttered, although there was no real malice there. Harry sensed an opportunity and leaned in, brushed his lips against Draco's and pulled him in for a slow kiss. The feel of soft, warm lips moving beneath his sent Harry's blood rushing. He would have happily stayed that way forever, except Draco insisted on talking. "Cheating," he mumbled between kisses. "No mistletoe."

"We could put some up."

"Let me guess... without magic."

"Trust me, it's more fun my way."

"It actually gets done _my_way."

Harry groaned and pulled the stubborn prat into another kiss just to shut him up. "I'll make you a deal," he declared when he finally bolstered up the self control to break away. "We'll do half of it my way and half of it your way. Starting with Christmas shopping."

Draco frowned and cocked his head as he considered that, no doubt suspecting some sort of trap. "Very well, Potter," he drawled. "You have yourself a deal. And speaking of shopping for presents, I just finished writing out my owl orders so…"

"Oh no," Harry cut in with a grin that was just this side of evil. "First one's mine. We're doing shopping the right way."

Draco's eyes widened with sheer horror. "You...you can't possibly mean…"

"Get your coat, love. We're going out."

* * *

><p>Madness. That's what it was. The whole world had devolved into a sheer, undiluted frenzy.<p>

"I'm going to kill you for this," Draco snapped as he flattened himself against the wall, trying to avoid direct contact with the unwashed masses as they waded through Diagon Alley. A woman shoved past him anyway, nearly sending him sprawling. Harry's arm was around him in an instant, holding him up.

"Quit faffing about, Draco! We still have to get Ron and Hermione something!"

The Weasel was _definitely_not worth all of this. It was under heavy protest that Draco was dragged into the shop. Almost immediately, he found himself in a deluge of Christmas crazed shoppers and he had to physically fight the urge to Apparate back home and hide under his blankets for the rest of the season.

"Move it, hot-shot!"

Draco sneered as a large woman blustered past him, apparently on her own Christmas quest. The mass of people closed around him and he cringed. Oh Merlin, here comes the claustrophobia…

"Draco!"

"Harry?" There was no sign of his boyfriend anywhere, but Harry's frantic call rang out through the crowd.

"Grab that plush seal! For Teddy!"

"Where is it?" Draco shouted back, looking around wildly. All he saw was ginger bread and two women pulling each other's hair over a doll…

"On your left!"

"Okay…"

"Your other left!"

Draco spotted the coveted seal and leapt for it with a cry of triumph. His hand closed around the plushie a split second before another, much larger fist clamped down on it. Draco looked up, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the face of his old nemesis.

"You let go of this!" the large woman shrieked indignantly, tugging at the toy. "I need it for my Terrence!"

"Tough!" Draco snapped, pulling back. She shrieked and planted a pointed heel right in his foot. Draco grit his teeth but refused to relinquish his hold. "Let go!"

"You let go!"

"Over my dead body!"

"Oh I'll take care of that!"

Draco yelped as the heel slammed down in his foot for a second time. Okay, that was _it_. "You asked for it, lady!" Draco tightened his hold and summoned all his strength into one more pull. The woman squealed as she was yanked forward and Draco side-stepped her neatly, making sure to stick his foot out. There was a huge crash and Draco grinned in triumph. The sight of the woman face down in a display of gingerbread was _so_ going up on his list of favourite Christmas memories. Draco smirked and tucked the seal under his arm, just as Harry came running.

"What…"

"I got it!" Draco crowed triumphantly.

"And I got everything else," Harry replied, showing off his own haul. "Now how about we…"

"You!"

They turned around, only to face the livid, gingerbread laden woman. The sight of the plush seal in Draco's possession seemed to enrage her further because she started a menacing lurch towards the two terrified men. Harry swallowed audibly but held his ground, apparently intending to Gryffindor his way out of the unfortunate situation. Draco, however had other ideas.

"**Run!** Run for your life!"

Harry gulped and followed his example. Sometimes, the Slytherin way was the best way.

* * *

><p>"Teddy had best appreciate everything I go through for him," Draco muttered as he sprawled on the sofa. His foot was still throbbing and he fervently hoped that troll woman would be picking crumbs out of her hair for a week.<p>

"He'll love it," Harry chuckled as he examined the seal. "Besides, he'll love anything he gets from his cousin Draco."

Draco couldn't help it, he preened a bit at that. "Smart kid," he agreed, plucking the toy from Harry's fingers. "So how about we wrap this up right now?"

Harry brightened up at once. "I'll get the scissors and..."

"Not so fast, Potter."

"I...won't get the scissors?"

"No," Draco replied firmly. "We endured possible homicide to do the shopping your way, and we'll be wrapping the presents my way. That was the deal."

Harry groaned and whinged but in the end Draco won out and they sat on the sofa, sipping hot chocolate as the presents wrapped themselves. Harry grudgingly admitted that it was rather relaxing. And the presents wasted a lot less tape than he would have. Draco grinned as the scissors snipped off a shiny bow and attached it to the last present, before setting itself on the table.

"Done," he declared, nodding approvingly at the neatly stacked gifts. "And with ten minutes to spare. No mess, no tape ends stuck to the table, no..."

"Fine. I get it," Harry grumbled. "And don't think I didn't notice how much green wrapping paper you snuck in there, you prat."

"I have _no _idea what you're talking about."

Harry shook his head and nudged his boyfriend. "Of course you don't. But I suppose they look nice. And...fine, I'll admit that took a lot less time than the Muggle way."

"Told you so."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the smug git and flashed him a grin. "Now we have _loads_of time to finish up with the holiday baking."

"Wait, what?"

Harry's grin widened.

Draco muttered belligerently under his breath as he stirred the sticky batter, stifling the temptation to fling some at his snickering boyfriend. That was hardly mature.

"At the Manor, we had house-elves to do these chores," he grumbled.

"Baking cookies is _not_a chore!" Harry looked appropriately scandalised. He glanced disparagingly at the glop Draco was currently torturing. "Not if you do it right, anyway."

Draco bristled indignantly. "Are you criticising my folding technique?"

"If by _folding_ you mean _stabbing the batter until it begs for mercy_ then no, not at all."

To hell with maturity. Draco wielded the spoon and flicked it, grinning maliciously as a glop landed smack bang in Harry's hair. The git gaped at him, apparently shocked into merciful silence and Draco couldn't quite suppress a snicker. "Oops," he offered sweetly.

"Oh, you've done it now," Harry growled, picking up a whisk. Draco shrieked in indignation as he found himself assaulted by dough and batter. White sticky strips dripped down his shirt, even as he picked up a handful of chocolate chips. "Bring it on, Potter!" he hissed, eyes flashing.

Harry smirked and grabbed a fistful of cinnamon powder. "Oh, its on."

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for the kitchen to devolve into a war zone.<p>

"Ha!" Harry crowed, cowering behind their upturned kitchen table as he pelted Draco with sprinkles. "Score one for the Gryffindors!"

"Oh?" Draco grinned, poking his head out from behind the counter. "Look behind you."

"Why would I look…" The rest of Harry's enquiry trailed off in a shriek as about a dozen eggs came flying at him out of nowhere. Eggs with fantastic aim, by the way. "We said no magic!" Harry sputtered as he wiped yolk off his shirt.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of my brilliance."

"Okay, that's it! No more Mr Nice Harry!" He marched right over and hauled Draco out from behind his shelter. Draco squirmed in his arms, covered in batter and sprinkles and Merlin knows what else. There was chocolate in his hair and icing sugar on his cheek and his eyes sparkled with mirth as he laughed.

"You look ridiculous." Harry declared as he picked a chocolate chip out of Draco's hair. His hand trailed over Draco's cheek and traced his jaw line, wiping a smudge of batter. He brought his finger to his lips, tasting the sweetness. Draco followed the movement, his eyes darkening ever so slightly. He leaned in and nipped at Harry's neck. "You do too," he whispered, letting his hands linger on Harry's back.

Harry's breath hitched and he let his hands travel to Draco's slim waist, pushing him onto the table. The blond went willingly, grinning slyly as Harry arranged him on his back and looked over him appreciatively. "Hungry?" Draco asked, hooking a leg around Harry. He was sure that the hunger in his own eyes was hard to miss.

"Starved," Harry replied, planting his hands on either side of Draco, licking a strip down his neck. Draco echoed Harry's moan and tightened his grasp, rubbing against him urgently. His cock was hard and straining against his trousers and Harry's rumbling laughter was hardly helping the situation.

"Harry," he whined, bucking into him again.

Harry chuckled again and worked his zipper, yanking Draco's trousers down with alarming efficiency. Draco gasped as Harry's eyes roved him appreciatively, pausing at his quivering cock. Harry licked his lips, ready to taste his treat and Draco nearly came on the spot.

"Harry… please..."

"Gorgeous," Harry hissed. And then all conversation was promptly thrown out the window as he leaned in and licked a strip down Draco's cock. Draco moaned and bucked on instinct, only to find Harry's hand firm on his stomach holding him down, as he licked and sucked and teased Draco to the point of torture. He couldn't help writhing in those capable hands anymore. Wanton moans and pleas escaped his lips.

"More! Please Harry... please..."

Gasps and pleas escaped Draco as his hands wound into Harry's hair even as the other held him down. Harry's gaze met his for a split second and then Draco eyes rolled back in his head as those talented lips closed around his length and he was engulfed in the warm wet heat of Harry's mouth. In true form, Harry didn't hold back at all. His fingers squeezed and tugged gently at Draco's balls, even as his throat worked Draco's cock. Draco moaned and panted, trying not to writhe off the table as he lost himself in pure pleasure.

"Harry…Harry, I...I'm gonna…"

The rest of his warning dissolved into a keening cry as Harry's quickened his pace, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to bring Draco over the brink. Blinding pleasure surged inside him and Draco arched magnificently as he came almost violently in Harry's throat.

Harry hummed in approval, causing another squeak and shudder from his sated partner. Draco lifted up his tousled head to glower blearily at him and Harry chuckled and released him with a faint _pop_. "My turn," he growled as he straightened. Draco groaned as he felt the Lubrication Charm slick his insides and then Harry's hands were on his thighs, pulling him forward and into position. He took his time to arrange Draco just so- raised legs, slightly parted lips, head tipped back just a bit. Draco whined impatiently and jerked against him, half hard just from all the handling.

"Get on with it!"

Harry grinned and obliged, aligning his cock with that tight entrance and thrusting. Draco splayed his legs and keened at the welcome intrusion, enjoying the sensation of Harry's cock filling and stretching his insides. His legs wrapped around his lover again and he rocked his hips, smirking in satisfaction as Harry groaned.

"Keep this up and I'll spank you for teasing me," Harry threatened.

Draco grinned and shimmied against him. "Promise?"

Harry gripped his hips again, drawing back and ramming into him. His eyes flashed as Draco threw his head back and moaned. "That's it," Harry hissed out praises as he commenced fucking Draco with abandon now. "That's it, Dray. Show me how much you want this. Show me what you need…"

Draco groaned and thrashed in response, eyes closed and lips parted, his fists clenched tight around nothing. Harry twisted suddenly, abruptly changing position. Draco whined in protest until Harry hit _that _spot. A wave of pure pleasure surged inside him and shrill, breathy gasps escaped him Harry focused all his attentions on that sensitive knot of nerves, letting Draco's rapidly increasing gasps and whines guide him through. He rammed inside Draco again and that was it.

Draco _screamed _as his second climax practically shattered him, rendering him immobile even as the evidence of his pleasure coated him and Harry. Harry growled and sought his own pleasure ruthlessly. He ravaged the limp, sated blond, running his hands over Draco's skin as he thrust into him over and over until he was coming as well, spurting his release into Draco with a low growl of pleasure.

His legs gave out almost instantly and Harry collapsed on Draco, curling around his beautiful boyfriend.

Draco wrapped around him like a contented cat, regarding Harry with amused eyes. "That was fun," he declared smugly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, skimming his fingers over Draco's hip bones. "Why, thank you. So glad Your Highness is entertained."

Draco laughed and nestled into his chest with a satisfied sigh. Harry's eyes softened at the sight and he couldn't resist running a gentle hand through the blond's messy hair. Draco purred in approval and Harry chuckled, placing a gentle kiss to his head before getting up. "Come on," he said, nudging Draco gently. "We still have to do up the tree."

Draco groaned in protest and Harry hauled him up with a laugh. "Come on," he urged. "I already got the lights up, we just need to put up the ornaments."

"Fine," Draco muttered. "But we're putting up the ones Mother sent over from the Manor."

"Of course we are." Harry nodded sincerely, even as he went over a mental list of the decorations he planned to sneak in when Draco wasn't looking.

Two hours later, the tree was decked from branch to root. One more ill-placed ornament or wayward strand of tinsel and it would most certainly keel over.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he surveyed their handiwork. "Not bad," he declared finally. "Although I'm fairly certain that clay blob was not in the box Mother sent over."

Harry chuckled and shook the odd ornament gently. "It's a star, I think. Teddy made it for us last year, remember?"

Draco considered that. "I suppose it could qualify as a star if you did this." He cocked his head and squinted. His eyes drifted to the other ornaments, picking out the few that were most certainly not Malfoy heirlooms. "At least young Miss Weasley's effort at an angel is passable."

"That one's Hugo's," Harry replied. "Rosie did that gingerbread man."

"And how many of their art class projects did you put up there when you thought I wasn't looking, hm?"

Harry flushed guiltily and scuffed his shoe against the floor. "Just a few. You're not going to take them off, are you?"

"I suppose not. Except this monstrosity," Draco smirked, plucking Teddy's star from a low hanging branch. Harry's eyes widened and he was about to launch into protest when Draco smiled softly. "This would look better right at the top, don't you think?"

Harry's heart surged with tenderness at that simple suggestion. Without a word, he reached out and pulled Draco closer, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him fiercely. "I love you," he said, and he had never meant it more than he did at that moment.

Draco smiled and gazed at him through lowered lashes. "I love you too, you sap," he said softly. "Now hit the lights. I want to see our tree all lit up."

The room dimmed as Harry raised his wand, and they turned to look at the tree. It was chaotic, to say the least. Half done up in expensive, delicate crystal decorations and silver tinsel, the other scattered with red and gold and popcorn garlands. Some of the branches sagged under the weight of clumsy clay ornaments that neither had the heart to remove. And Teddy's four or seven point star-depending on which way you looked at it-proudly holding court at the top. Honestly, it looked terrible.

"It's beautiful," Draco murmured. Harry couldn't agree more.

"That's everything on the list."

"Almost everything."

Harry raised an enquiring eyebrow, and Draco smirked and raised his wand in response. The dim lights went out around the room, leaving the tree as the only source of light. Harry laughed as Draco started up the fireplace with another flick of his wand and then led Harry to the sofa. They flopped on the sofa, Harry hovering over Draco with his hands planted on either side of his head. The blond grinned back at him, his hair fanning out on the cushions and his pale skin glowing invitingly in the firelight.

"My very own Christmas angel," Harry chuckled. Merlin, he looked so beautiful...Draco's eyes glinted with mischief as he waved his wand one last time. Harry burst into laughter as he regarded the enchanted mistletoe hanging over them. Draco wrapped a lithe leg around him and lifted his chin haughtily. "Kiss me under the mistletoe, Potter," he ordered.

"Your wish is my command." Harry smiled as he swooped down on him again.

* * *

><p>Hours later, they lay tangled up in each other and neither had had the wherewithal to even suggest moving from the sofa. Harry pressed a kiss to a slumbering Draco's head as he shifted to pull the blanket up over both of them. Draco mumbled incoherently and nuzzled into his neck, precariously balanced on top of his boyfriend. Harry wrapped a secure arm around him just in case.<p>

"Harry?" A sleepy voice broke out in the silence.

His hand drifted to Draco's hair on instinct and he shushed him gently. "Go to sleep, love. It's almost Christmas morning."

Draco yawned and snuggled into his chest. "Just wanted t'say I was wrong."

"Wrong? What about?"

"About Christmas. I...I like your way better."

Harry smiled softly, petting him again. "Do you? Well, I like _our_way. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat." He felt Draco's smile against his neck and the gentle flutter of his lashes as his eyes closed again. "What about presents?" he asked even as he drifted off to sleep again.

"In the morning," Harry promised softly. "Christmas morning." His hand closed around the velvet box in his pocket discreetly and he smiled as he imagined the elegant platinum band inside it. It had said Draco to him the moment he'd spotted it in Diagon Alley three weeks ago.

"And every morning after that," he added softly. A contented smile traced his lips as he closed his eyes, Draco still wrapped up securely in his arms.


	141. Wolven Wanderers

**Prompts: Black and white wolf, Hot Chocolate, Paw prints in the snow**

* * *

><p>The black wolf was on the move. He had been tracking the hare ever since the hunt began. His prey had sensed his presence and taken off in a hurry. His dark coat bristled with excitement as he gave chase. He had no intention of killing anything, but the chase was still fun. So he tore through the forest, blazing a trail through the icy grounds.<p>

The hare took a sharp left and disappeared into the sparse undergrowth. The wolf stilled, taking a moment to just feel the forest around him. The sharp bite of the wind and the chill of the frost beneath his paws was exhilarating. He tipped his head back and let loose a howl.

His call, as always was answered.

The black wolf cocked an interested ear. There was a shift in the shadows and he turned. The white wolf stepped out into the light. He was a svelte, agile creature with gleaming white fur and blue-grey eyes. He took in the scene with a disdainful sniff and approached the black wolf at a sedate pace, cocking a disdainful ear at the other's obvious excitement.

The black wolf could care less. His companion of the night was here and he was glad for it. He bounded over to the other and indulged himself with a brief nuzzle, which the white wolf grudgingly allowed. The black wolf's tongue lolled out and he pranced about the magnificent creature, inviting him to play. The white wolf merely observed him, somehow managing to affect an air of disdain and amusement all at once. The darker of the two hunkered down and rolled in the snow, demanding a game of tag. Eventually, his patience ran out and he resorted to a light nip on the flank. The white wolf growled in warning and stalked off, intending to distance himself from his troublesome familiar.

The black wolf gave chase immediately. There was a yelp of surprise and then the two wolves were rolling and tussling, snow flying around them as they growled playfully and nipped at each other.

The game didn't last very long. Eventually, the white wolf tackled the other and pounced on him, teeth bared and tail bristling in irritation. The black wolf rolled on his back and panted, tail still wagging from the excitement of the play-fight. The white wolf flattened his ears and stared balefully at him.

_Immature idiot,_ he seemed to say.

Still, he indulged the playful one with a nuzzle before settling down to groom him.

The black wolf huffed in discontent but a sharp nip to the ear kept him still as his companion licked and fussed over him. He even managed a few affectionate licks of his own— an indulgence his overly prideful companion rarely allowed. It wasn't easy running with the white wolf, but these rare moments made up for it and he wouldn't give them up for the world.

The sun was coming up now. The wolves watched the breaking dawn as one and a silent understanding passed between them.

It was time to go home.

Harry changed first. His lupine form shifted easily. He stumbled a bit before righting himself and brushed the snow off his jeans. Draco— still in wolf form—watched him with evident disinterest. Harry chuckled and scratched his ears, ignoring the narrowed eyes and half growl of protest. Draco may not always enjoy his antics, but he would never bite him.

"Oh, stop it," he chided gently. "Some of us like to run around and have fun. That's what your Animagus form is for."

Draco sniffed condescendingly and licked his hand.

Harry chuckled and carded his fingers in that soft, white fur again. "Race you home?"

Draco yawned and flopped down in the snow, closing his eyes.

"Loser makes the winner hot chocolate?"

Draco stilled. One grey eye opened in mild interest. An ear twitched.

Then Harry yelped and fell back in surprise as Draco shot up and took off racing, leaving a trail of paw prints in the snow.

"Cheater!" Harry called after him.

Draco's answering growl sounded a lot like laughter. Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed and took off running too.

The chase was on again.


	142. Harry's Special Christmas

**Prompts used: Mince meat pies, red and green cocktails, champagne, uncomfortable work party at Christmas**

* * *

><p>Draco took a sip of his champagne and nodded politely, trying and failing to pay attention to the Representative from the Guild of Cauldron Welders. Something about rising brass prices? Corrosive ingredients in potions? Honestly, he didn't have a clue— it was all starting to blur together. He really had to hand it to the Ministry's Event Committee. Only they could take something as festive and cheerful as a Christmas party and then dish out the dullest affair in the history of magical celebrations.<p>

Unlike other guests, Draco couldn't make a polite appearance and sneak off. As the Minister's aide, he had an obligation to stay until the night had run its course. This was one of the few events of the year where the Minister for Magic was expected to make an appearance and people were lining up left, right and centre for 'just a minute' of his time. And consequently, Draco's as well.

Draco felt a twinge of sympathy for Harry. He really hated these things. Besides, he worked hard enough to deserve a real celebration on Christmas. But this was a big part of his job as Minister for Magic and it was _Draco's_ job to make sure he did it.

Speaking of the Minister...Draco frowned. He hadn't seen Harry around for a while.

_And there's Escape Attempt Number One,_ he thought dryly.

"I'll have someone from the office get in touch with you," he informed the Rep shortly before taking off.

Ah, _there_ was the man he wanted to see.

"Kingsley," Draco greeted, approaching the Head Auror. "Having a good time?"

Kingsley sighed and pocketed his wand, still keeping a sharp eye on the gathering. "Oh, I'm having a ball," he replied blandly. "How are you, Draco?"

"Brilliant," Draco replied in the same dry tone. He shared an amused look with the Head Auror before coming down to business. "I was wondering if you'd seen Harry anywhere."

Kingsley straightened his relaxed stand just a fraction. "The Minister was last seen in the West Corridor," he reported. "I'm told he was on his way to his office. We expect him to return shortly. Of course, I could send out a team to..."

"That won't be necessary," Draco broke in politely. "I'll find him. Keep up the good work, Head Auror."

He took his leave and took the familiar route to the Minister's office. Why was Harry here? The budget had been discussed last week, the meeting with the Bulgarian Delegation wasn't until next Monday and Draco had personally seen to the expenditure reports. So what in Salazar's name was Harry doing up _here_ when the Italian Ambassador was expecting him downstairs?

"Typical," he grumbled to himself. "I can't leave him alone for a second."

He quickened his pace and reached the ornate mahogany doors, rapping sharply once to announce his presence.

"Minister?" he called, making sure to adopt a stern tone. Harry had a tendency to do whatever he said if it meant avoiding a lecture. "Are you in there?"

"Draco?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, it's Santa Claus."

"Really?" Harry's voice perked up in delight.

"Of for the love of..." Draco gave up trying and turned the door knob. "I'm coming in."

"No, wait! I'm..."

Harry trailed off as Draco walked in. Draco didn't notice. He was far too busy gaping at the ridiculous scene in front of him.

"What in the name of..."

"Hi," Harry mumbled guiltily. He was sitting cross-legged on the plush Persian rug that Draco had just installed last week, surrounded by every bit of furniture in the office. No, really. There was a side table and two plush arm chairs circling the rug. Sheets and curtains were draped over them. The desk had been moved a little to the left to accommodate the tent like structure. And Harry was in the centre of it all with a tray of red and green cocktails in front of him.

Okay, this had officially gone too far.

Draco crossed his arms and went for Disapproving Expression Number Three. That was a good one. "Minister Potter," he intoned sternly. "Are you building a blanket fort in your office?"

Harry blinked innocently. "No."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You're drunk, aren't you?"

"No," Harry repeated, a tad more belligerently. "I've only had _six_ of th' red drinkses," he added, holding up five fingers to emphasize his point.

"And?"

Harry ducked his head. "Four green ones," he admitted sheepishly.

Honestly. Draco suppressed the urge to rub his temples. "Minister Potter," he tried again, doing his best to sound calm and reasonable. "As your Personal Aide and Communications Officer, I strongly advise against this course of action."

Harry made a high, keening sound— not unlike a whining Crup. "But Draacoo..."

"No," Draco replied firmly. "Everyone is wondering where you are and I'm not quite sure I can explain this. Therefore, we are going back to the party. I'll cast a Sobering Charm on you, we'll get you a coffee or three and then..."

"No!" Harry interrupted, scowling stubbornly at him. "Not going back! You can't _make_ me!" And with that declaration, he scuttled back in the fort and out of Draco's sight.

Draco, for his part, was starting to grind his teeth. "Minister, get out of the fort."

"No!"

"Harry, _now._"

There was an odd noise in response to his order. Draco surmised it was a raspberry. And that was officially the last straw.

"Fine!" he snapped, yanking his tie off sharply and stepping over to the tent. "Then I'm coming in after you."

"You can't come in!" Harry declared triumphantly. "You don't know the password!"

"Is the password Draco's-being-mean-to-me?"

"How did you know?!"

"Because that's the password to your private office, you berk!" Draco snapped. "Now budge over and let me do my job."

Harry made a small sound of dismay as he wedged himself into the fort. It was a tight squeeze but eventually Draco was sitting cross-legged too, glaring as his inebriated boss huddled in a corner and gave him the Kicked Crup look.

"Not going," Harry repeated in a small, albeit stubborn voice. He was _pouting_, for Salazar's sake.

"Harry, I'm going to say it one more time," Draco declared. He was pretty sure there was actual steel in his voice. "You are going to that party or so help me...what's that?"

Harry stashed whatever he was fumbling with behind his back. "Nothing."

"Is that...are those mince meat pies?" Draco craned his neck to get a better look. "Where on earth did you get those?"

Harry snickered gleefully and retrieved his loot. "I _stole_ 'em." With that, he commenced munching on the pilfered pies.

Draco groaned and swiped a hand over his face. "This is so bad for Public Relations," he muttered. "What else did you take?"

He took a brief glance around the fort. It was worse than he'd imagined. There was a string of fairy lights draped around one of the desk legs, a small tree stood proud in the corner, there was a stack of mince meat pies in Harry's lap and a bottle of champagne rolled next to what may or may not be the Accounts Department's Yule Log. Evidently, Harry had arranged a one man Christmas party all for himself.

Draco was starting to get a headache.

"Why do you hate me?" he demanded. "How on earth am I supposed to explain this to the Italian Ambassador? Why would you do this now, Potter? Just tell me why."

Harry seemed to get smaller and smaller through Draco's rant. By the end of it, his shoulders were hunched and he was picking sulkily at the pies. "Wantedanicechristmas," he mumbled.

Draco frowned and slid over. "What was that?"

"I said..." Harry sighed and hunched over again. "I just wanted a _nice_ Christmas for once."

"You could have a perfectly nice Christmas downstairs," Draco pointed out.

"They don' wanna talk to me," Harry replied quietly. "Everyone just wants _things_ from me all the time. Save the world, Harry. Run the country, Harry. Fix the budget, meet the Bulgarians, eat your vegetables..."

Draco sighed wearily. Not this argument again. "For the last time, it was a State Dinner and I did _not_ yell at you."

"Whatever," Harry grumbled. "Every Christmas it's the same thing. When I was little, the Dursleys wouldn't even let me come downstairs and _see_ the presents. They just locked me in my room. And _now,_ people won't leave me alone."

"So your solution is to lock yourself in a room?" Draco asked.

"Better this way," Harry replied quietly. "At least I don't have to pretend to be happy."

Draco winced. To tell the truth, he wasn't a big fan of this plan. Harry shouldn't have to spend Christmas with a bunch of people who only wanted to talk to the Minister. But he shouldn't have to spend it alone either.

No, that wouldn't do.

It seemed that he would have to come to Potter's rescue once again.

"You really don't want to go down there, do you?" he asked softly.

Harry shook his head, looking drunk and pathetic and very, very lonely. He looked up and his green eyes were so big and sad. Draco cursed inwardly. He knew that look. It was a look that tugged at his heart strings. A look that made him want to do whatever it took to make Harry feel better. A look that would probably spell disaster for his career one of these days.

Oh, well.

"Minister," he said finally. "I propose a new plan of action."

"You're making me go back to the party," Harry muttered.

"One way to go," Draco agreed. "Or we could just stay here. In the fort."

Harry's eyes widened. "We?" he squeaked. "You'll stay here? With me?"

No one should have to spend Christmas alone under a blanket. Besides, Draco had done a lot worse for a lot for Harry, and for a lot less.

"It's a very nice fort," he replied. "It would be a shame to let it go to waste."

A grin broke out on Harry's face. His eyes lit up and his shoulders relaxed. For the first time in a long while, he actually looked happy. "Thank you," he murmured, almost bashfully.

Draco tried not to let his expression soften. Potter got away with enough. Instead, he just affected a nonchalant shrug and poured himself a glass of champagne. "I'll expect a raise, of course."

Harry grinned and handed him a pie. "Of course."

Draco hid his smile with a sip of champagne.


	143. Aprons and All That

**Prompts: Hermione, Cooking Class**

**Warning(s): Smut, not fit for minors etcetera etcetera**

* * *

><p>As Harry balanced on a rickety stool outside the classroom, he maintained that this was Hermione's fault. She just <em>had<em>to take that Thai cooking class at the Magical Community Centre. When she announced that Draco Malfoy was a teacher there, several things happened at once.

Ron choked on his Pad Thai. Ginny thought about it, shrugged and went back to slathering Tabasco on everything. And Harry found himself wondering what Draco Malfoy would look like in an apron and also, where was this Community Centre, exactly?

Therefore, his predicament was Hermione's fault. She knew that he had a medical condition— the way talk of Malfoy affected his heart rate was _not a joke_— and there she was putting pictures in his head.

Malfoy in an apron, bending over a stove, stirring batter with his finger and bringing it up to his plump lips for a taste...the fact that Malfoy was instructing a Thai class and not a baking class was just a technicality. Harry didn't care for technicalities.

He adjusted his position on the stool and craned his neck. The class was full but he couldn't see Malfoy. Where was he? Had he not come in? Harry scowled and stood on his toes, not noticing as the stool listed dangerously. He had _not_ come this far just to be thwarted. He was going to get a glimpse of Malfoy in an apron one way or...

"Potter?"

Harry flailed, yelped and fell—in that order. For a second, the world swam before sliding back into focus. Through crooked glasses, he glimpsed a familiar and very annoyed someone staring down at him.

And he was wearing an apron.

"Worth it," Harry mumbled.

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Harry took the opportunity to scramble off the floor and take a good look at Malfoy. He was dressed simply. His white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, contrasting with the green apron tied around his waist. Malfoy's hair was dishevelled, as if he'd shaken it out of his eyes more than once this morning, probably while whipping up a meringue or beating some eggs...

Harry licked his lips and feasted his eyes, only realising belatedly that Malfoy was talking.

"...too bad you didn't break your neck," Malfoy finished. "There are no freeloaders in my class, Potter. If you want to learn, you need to enrol."

Harry grinned, ignoring the suspicious flare in those grey eyes. "Where do I sign up?"

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Draco was still wearing the apron. His other clothes were on the floor of the pantry, while he braced himself against the wall and Harry pounded into him with enthusiasm.<p>

"Can't...believe you...ruined a perfectly good stir fry," he panted, scrabbling against the wall. Harry angled his thrusts, resulting in another moan.

"I can't believe...you gave me detention on...my first day," he retorted, grabbing hold of that pretty arse and ramming into it. Draco arched his back and Harry grinned in triumph.

"And you...better make it count...if you ever want to set foot in my class again," Draco managed, twisting his position. He moaned in satisfaction as Harry hit the spot.

"Quite the _hard_ taskmaster, eh?" Harry commented. He reached down and stroked Draco's rigid cock, hiding a grin in his shoulder. 'Hard' didn't even begin to cover it.

"If you put as much effort in your cooking as you do in those awful puns, you'd be my best student," Draco hissed, squirming impatiently. "Now put your back into it!"

What teacher says, goes. Harry pumped his hips, making sure to angle just right. Draco's moans turned to sharp gasps, his nails dug into the wall, a rack of spices went crashing to the ground and then... Draco was coming, eyes rolling back and his head slumping against Harry's shoulder as he spurted. Harry hissed as the tight entrance around him clenched. That was enough. In seconds, he was coming too, holding on to Draco for the ride of his life.

They remained there, sweaty and panting for breath. Harry pressed a kiss against Draco's neck, smiling at the appreciative moan he elicited.

"I'm so glad I suck at cooking," he murmured.

"Mm," Draco replied helpfully.

Suddenly, he straightened himselfHarry hissed in displeasure as his cock slipped from that slick entrance. Draco turned to him, eyes wide with alarm.

"Potter," he blurted. "Did we leave the gas on?"


	144. Bickering with Books

**Prompt: Take a book and yourself out for lunch.**

**Warning(s): Suggestions of bondage**

* * *

><p>And what will we be having today, Monsieur?"<p>

"That man's head on a platter."

"Pardonnez-moi?"

"I said surprise me."

Draco dismissed the waiter with a terse gesture and went back to glaring daggers at the table dead ahead. Potter grinned cheekily and waggled his eyebrows, looking atrociously out of place at the high end café. He was sipping at his cappuccino— not unlike Draco. He had a book carelessly propped in one hand and he was making quite the show of reading it.

Ha! As if.

Draco scowled and went back to glaring at his own book_._ Granted, no Muggle author could ever match the likes of Goshawk or Whisp, but he couldn't frequent a non magical establishment with _Most Potente Potions _tucked under his arm, could he? Of course, he could always spell the book to look different but lately, Draco tired of the effort. It was much easier to just read Muggle books instead. They were quaint, but oddly charming. And the lack of moving pictures helped him focus, something magical texts rarely afforded. All in all, Draco rather enjoyed these quiet afternoons when he could just take a book and himself out to lunch.

Or at least, he _was _until Potter butted in.

Draco raised his head and stole another look. Potter was staring intently at his book, seemingly caught up in his reading. As Draco watched, he nodded thoughtfully and turned the page.

That bare faced _liar._

He was just waiting for the right moment, Draco was sure of it. His hands tightened around his copy of _Flirting with Disaster — _a kitschy, paperback romance he had _only_ picked up to confirm his theory (and not at all because of the fit dark haired bloke on the cover).

Sure enough, he was right. Potter moved his book just a fraction and Draco skimmed the title. 

_Flirting with Potter ;)_

Draco slammed his coffee cup on the table. Hard. A few patrons jumped but Potter didn't even bother looking up. His lips twitched though, and Draco just _knew_ the bastard was howling with laughter on the inside.

This was the ninth or tenth time he'd pulled this stunt.

The first time it happened, Draco assumed it was just a very unfortunate accident. What were the odds that Potter would walk into his café with a book? For that matter, what were the odds that Potter could read? No, it just had to be a coincidence. Therefore, Draco had done the sensible thing. He ignored the prat and went back to reading '_Something Wicked This Way Comes'._

Potter responded by pulling out his own book and setting it on the table in full view of Draco.

_And Damn, If It Doesn't Have One Fine Arse._

Draco nearly choked on his coffee.

Surely, that didn't...but how could he...wait, _what?!_

And so, it started.

Since that fateful day, Potter had made it his mission to challenge every one of Draco's books with a ridiculous counterpart of his own making.

Draco read _To Kill a Mockingbird. _Potter read_ To Snag a Slytherin._

_What Colour is Your Parachute? What Colour is Your Underwear?_

_Gone with the Wind. Wait, Are We Still Talking About Your Underwear?_

This was the point where Draco started entertaining some very graphic murder fantasies. Nevertheless, he persevered, determined not to let Potter's absurd antics scare him off.

_Moby Dick. Ooh, **Now** We're Talking! _

_Journey to the End of the Night. Okay, But You Have to Buy Me Dinner First._

And of course, there was the one that got the dubious distinction of first place in Potter's one-sided War against the Classics. Draco would never be able to finish _Crime and Punishment _after seeing Potter snickering through _A How to Guide for the Exciting World of Bondage._

But those days were over because Draco was drawing the line. Enough was enough. Potter had ruined books Draco didn't even _know_ existed and it ended here and now. He was going to confront the prat and figure out his end game.

So, Draco squared his shoulders, marched over to Potter's table and slammed his fist down on it, demanding an immediate response.

"Afternoon, Malfoy," Potter greeted. "I didn't see you there."

Draco's eye twitched. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "More importantly, _why_ are you doing it?"

Potter's brow furrowed and he batted his lashes all too innocently. "What? Can't a bloke just take a book out to lunch without getting accosted?"

The eye twitch returned with a vengeance. Draco's was starting to see red at the edges of his vision. "You," he managed to sputter. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, Potter but I am telling you _right now..."_

"But since you're here," Potter cut in, glibly sliding a chair out. "Care to join me?"

Draco trailed off and gaped soundlessly, somewhat thrown by Potter's confident grin. "Come on," he cajoled, patting the seat. "We can read together."

"What makes you...I don't want to...why would you even _think_ that..."

Potter cut him off with an exaggerated sigh. _"You're_ the one who marched up here to bother _me,_ Malfoy. Remember?"

"You...I...no, wait..."

"Exactly," Potter declared firmly. "So sit down. I'm on Chapter Six of _Flirting with Potter. _It's a real page turner."

Draco blinked, but finally he took a seat next to Potter. This wasn't exactly familiar territory. "That's not a real book," he argued weakly.

It couldn't be.

Right?

Potter grinned and leaned closer. "If you like," he whispered, "we can always read _A How to Guide for the Exciting World of Bondage _together."

Draco flushed furiously. Colour flew to his cheeks and Potter's eyes flashed with appreciation. The sight was both arousing and annoying and Draco straightened his shoulders again, determined to beat Potter at his own stupid game.

"Okay," he replied coolly. "But you have to buy me dinner first."

And if Potter's resulting grin made it seem like this was what he'd planned all along, it meant _nothing._ Draco was the victor this time. He had called Potter out on his game and therefore, he had _won_— proving once and for all that there was nothing Potter could do to get one up on him.

Right?


	145. Scuffling Snow Sculptors

**Written for hd_owlpost as a gift for fantasyfiend09. **

**Warning(s): Slightest mention of homophobia except not really.**

**Summary: Harry and Draco get into a little tiff over their snow sculptures.**

* * *

><p>This was shaping up to be a <em>great<em> day.

Draco took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air as he put the finishing touches on his master piece. His beautifully sculpted sea lion gazed out haughtily at the world— almost as if it knew it was the best entry at this year's Annual Snow Sculpting Competition.

Draco smiled in satisfaction of a job well done and took a discreet look around. Somewhere to his right, a young couple giggled and nudged each other playfully as they cobbled together a sad, little castle. Two little girls— sisters, most likely— were trying and failing to keep their snowman from listing to one side. And the twins from last year's disastrous Almost Avalanche Incident had given up on their dragon and were pelting each other with snowballs.

Amateurs. Draco scoffed derisively. Not a single worthy speck in a sea of incompetence. Not that he should be all that surprised, of course. After all, Draco's prowess with snow sculpting was legendary at this contest; what could the rest do but slink back home with their tails between their legs? It was the only sensible recourse left, considering that he'd be taking the prize for the third time in a row this year. Oh yes, he could practically _taste_ that all season's pass to Honeydukes.

Draco eyed his sea lion again. The snout was perfect, the pebbles he'd painstakingly selected for its eyes were holding up and even its whiskers— carefully crafted from the delicate icicles he'd collected—were exquisite. That tail looked a bit wonky though. Draco's brow furrowed and he took a discreet look around. Fortunately, the twin terrors had everyone's attention— they were adamantly defending their 'heap of snow sculpture' as the perfect likeness to an actual heap of snow and a valid contender for first place. It was just the opportunity he so sorely needed. In the blink of an eye, he pulled out his wand and cast a series of spells in rapid succession, watching with glee as the tail righted itself. Okay, so maybe using magic was against the rules and everything, but really it was just a formality. There was no way anyone was beating his sculpture so it wasn't even a...

"I saw that, you know."

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. There may even have been a bit of dramatic chest clutching involved, not that he would ever admit to such a thing. Nevertheless, when Draco whirled around, he promptly found himself face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

Potter raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Cheating at snow sculpting, Malfoy?" he said, looking less than amused. "I'm not even sure how to respond to that."

Draco scowled. Damn it! And he'd been so careful too. What was Potter even doing here? Well, never mind. It could wait. The git had caught him in the act and Draco had some serious damage control to take care of before Potter tattled to the judges. When in doubt, deny, Father always said. It was a policy that had yet to fail him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco replied loftily, eyeing Potter with a good helping of disdain. It was only proper. Potter had no business being at a competition of such magnitude. This was Draco's turf!

"I'm sure," Potter replied, sounding insultingly unconvinced. "Try to be more discreet, yeah? I'm sure you don't want your fine fellow over there to get disqualified over a petty shot at first place." He nodded at the sea lion and Draco bristled defensively.

"I'll have you know my entry is perfectly legal!" Draco snapped. "You're talking to last year's winner, Potter, so I suggest you mind your tone."

"Oh?" Potter didn't sound at all impressed. That took Draco annoyance to a whole other level. Then he got to wondering why impressing Potter mattered at all and said annoyance not only jumped a few more levels but also scooped up several hundred bonus points on its way.

"Yes," Draco retorted, turning away in clear dismissal. "And I'd like to get back to my _prize winning entry_ so if you don't mind..."

"I'd hold off on the victory speech if I were you."

Draco froze in his tracks. He turned around very, very slowly. Potter was still there, smiling pleasantly. But his eyes sparked with challenge and his mouth was twisted in the hint of a grin and Draco knew that look. He had seen that look on Potter's stupid, smug face _every single time_ the prat beat him to the Snitch.

Oh, _hell_ no.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, his tone cold and menacing.

Potter's smile widened and he shrugged his shoulders. "Just that you might have some actual competition for the title this time around, that's all. I'm feeling pretty good about my entry."

That gave Draco pause. Potter had an entry for the contest? Since when? And why hadn't Draco seen it? He was always so particular about scoping out the competition.

"I was working downfield," Potter explained as if reading Draco's thoughts. "I reckoned seeing me here wouldn't sit well with you and you looked so happy working away on your sculpture so..."

He trailed off abruptly. Draco raised an interested eyebrow as a light flush graced Potter's cheeks, but the next second he cleared his throat and shucked at some snow with his boot. "Anyway," Potter continued, lifting his chin in clear challenge. "My entry is just as good as yours, so I guess we'll just have to let the judges decide."

The vein in Draco's temple was starting to throb. "And just where is your abysmal attempt at artistry?" he asked. "I'd like to have a good laugh before I collect my prize."

Potter's eyes flashed but he gestured vaguely at the edge of the field. "Right over there."

Draco's eyes drifted over and promptly froze on the sculpture. Potter's entry was unmistakable. The lion was small— which would explain why he hadn't seen it before— but it was very well done. Potter had used more ice than snow in the actual building, but all the details from the mane to the whiskers were exquisitely detailed. Draco could even see streaks in the mane and the hint of bristles at the tail. He swallowed audibly. It was a really good effort. Suddenly, Draco's ironclad hold on this year's prize seemed tenuous at best.

"That thing?" he managed shakily. "Why, it's disgraceful. Is it supposed to be a lion? It looks like a housecat with a bad case of the Spattergroit. Honestly Potter, you should just destroy it before you embarrass yourself. Here, I'll help..."

"Don't you dare!" Potter snapped, positioning himself between Draco and his lion like a...well, like a lion. His green eyes bore flashed and he reared into Draco's personal space, nearly brushing their chests together. Hell, he was so close that his hair brushed against Draco's jaw line. Despite the slight height difference (ha!) between them, Draco felt somewhat cloistered by Potter's sudden intrusion. "I worked hard on that, Malfoy," Potter growled, pointing a no nonsense finger in Draco's chest. "And you're not getting your paws on it. So back off!"

Draco's eyes narrowed. So that was how they were playing, was it? "I'm just trying to save you some embarrassment, Potter," he belted back. "But if you're so set on taking the Best Comic Relief category by storm, who am I to stop you? Go right ahead, I say!"

Potter sneered and pushed at him, ignoring Draco's gasp of outrage at the sheer audacity. "At least I'll win this competition honestly," he growled. "I didn't have to resort to cheap magic tricks to win."

Oh, _too_ far.

Draco's blood surged. He sneered and lifted his wand before he could even consider the consequences. "You want magic?" he hissed. "Magic it is!"

The Blasting Hex that flew from his wand not only decimated Potter's lion, but every entry within three feet of it. People shrieked and ducked for cover as ice and snow exploded around them. An igloo collapsed like a stack of cards, an unfortunate snowman lost its head and the 'heap of snow sculpture' became an 'even bigger heap of snow sculpture with some legs sticking out of it'.

When the carnage cleared, Potter was gaping at him in complete shock. Draco was feeling rather good about stunning the prat speechless and then Potter howled in rage and threw himself at Draco.

"Bastard!" he howled, throwing punches in a blind rage. "You'll pay for that!" His fist caught Draco on the jaw, and that was it. Draco responded with all the rage and tenacity of an angry snow sculptor and soon they were brawling in the field, rolling around and kicking and throwing punches for all they were worth. The rest of the contestants abandoned their posts and ran over to see the show. There was some cheering and whooping— most likely from those infernal twins— but Draco didn't care. He was too intent on beating Potter to a pulp and beating that pulp to a smear in the snow.

So intent, in fact that he didn't notice how close their scuffling had taken them to the one intact sculpture left in the contest. One misplaced blow and Potter's foot shot out...

...catching the sea lion right on the snout.

It fell apart with a soft _plop_, although it may as well have been an earth shattering crash. Potter froze with a muttered _oh shite_ and Draco halted mid punch. He turned his head and his eyes widened in pure shock.

"My sea lion!"

Draco's shriek of horror echoed through the ground as he scrambled up and ran to the ruined sculpture. Potter followed close at his heels but Draco didn't notice. He only had eyes for what remained of his beautiful sculpture. Draco felt his eyes sting and his breath hitch as he took in the carnage. A shapeless lump of snow with a sad, little flipper sticking out was all that was left of his six hours of effort.

"Damn," Potter cursed, skidding to a stop next to him. "That wasn't supposed to...Malfoy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"It's ruined," Draco mumbled. His throat clenched painfully and his vision blurred at the edges. "It's all ruined, Potter."

Potter stared at him, looking rather panicky all of a sudden. "Now, Malfoy," he began uneasily. "It's going to be fine. We can fix it, yeah? We just need to..."

Draco emitted a small, broken whimper, effectively shutting down Potter's half-arsed attempts at placation. There would be no fixing this. His sculpture was gone, he would never get first prize now and he had no one but himself to blame. If he hadn't destroyed Potter's stupid lion, this wouldn't have happened. Now everything was ruined and Salazar help him, he was going to start bawling in the street like a child any second and it was all so wrong. He could have won, he _should_ have won and now...

The tears fell and Draco sniffled, hiding in his sleeve and powerless to stop the completely irrational surge of emotion in his chest. For Merlin's sake, it was just a stupid snow sculpture! It would have melted anyway, right? And yet, the thought just wrenched painfully at his chest, making him cry even harder. The sight of that wasted, shapeless lump of snow was too much, it was too much and Draco couldn't bear it and...

He was so overwrought that he didn't even realise Potter had his arms around him until Draco's head connected with his chest. "There there," Potter tried, patting his head awkwardly. "It's going to be okay, Malfoy. I promise."

"How can you s-say that?" Draco stuttered. "Look at it! It's all broken!"

He felt Potter's wince. "I know," he muttered, carding his hand through Draco's hair again. "I'm really sorry. I know how much this meant to you. Can you forgive me?"

"Not your fault," Draco mumbled. It hurt to admit it, but it was true. Draco _had_ started it, after all. Tempting as it was, it would be unfair to blame this whole mess on Potter.

Nevertheless, Potter seemed relieved by his admission. "Thanks," he mumbled softly, tightening his grip on Draco. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Do you have an all season's pass to Honeydukes?"

"Not right now, no."

Draco sniffed and looped his arms around Potter's neck. "Then shut up and stay still for the next fifteen minutes."

Potter chuckled nervously and patted his back again. "That I can do," he promised.

Good enough. Draco curled up against him, letting Potter's warmth balm his aching heart. Those strong arms were still wrapped around him, holding him close. Draco hummed and his eyes closed as he nuzzled into the embrace, not even stirring at the resounding aww and the scattered applause from the crowd around them.

"Oh, they made up!" one of the assembled females squealed. "Aren't they adorable?"

"Dude," an uneasy male voice declared. "That is so _gay."_

"You shut up!" another girl snapped. There was a loud thwack and a yelp of dismay and Draco surmised that someone had lobbed a snowball at the dissenter.

Good.

Draco couldn't be bothered. Right now, Potter was all he needed.

"Do you want to get out here?" Potter asked gently. "Maybe get some hot chocolate or something?"

Draco's reply was halted by a tap to his shoulder. He turned around and found himself facing one of the twins. The boy shuffled uncomfortably and rubbed his head. Evidently _he_ was the one who'd received a snowball to the noggin from Draco's adoring public.

"Uh, dude?" the twin said. "They're asking for you at the judges' table."

* * *

><p>Draco fingered his Three Day Honeydukes Pass thoughtfully and sucked on a sugar quill. Harry walked beside him, one gloved hand holding on to Draco's and the other fumbling with a bag of Gobstoppers.<p>

"I still can't believe those ruddy _twins_ won first place," Draco declared sullenly. It rankled his pride a bit. For Salazar's sake, they'd entered a heap of snow in the contest!

Harry chuckled and slid an arm around his shoulders. "Well, to be fair, all that was left after our little scuffle was an arse load of snow. At least they made an effort."

"_My_ pile of snow was better than _their_ pile of snow," Draco insisted adamantly.

"You got a prize too."

"For best comic relief!" Draco argued vehemently. "It's an outrage!"

Harry chuckled in amusement and pressed a kiss to his head. "Well, I think things turned out great."

Draco bristled indignantly at the lack of support. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, tightening his grip on Draco's shoulders again. "Because you're the best thing I could have got out of that stupid contest. If you ask me, _I'm_ the real winner here."

Oh.

Draco's frown melted (not unlike his ill fated sea lion) and a shy smile graced his lips as he wrapped his arm around Harry's waist.

Maybe — just maybe— it could be worse.


	146. Dine and Dash

**Prompt: Soup**

**Summary: Draco is stuck on a miserable date. Enter Pothead.**

* * *

><p>By the time the soup was served, Draco knew he had made a mistake.<p>

This was his first date in months and disaster didn't even begin to cover it. Rufus Butterworth was less than ideal as far as companions went. He was dull as dish water and loved hearing himself talk. Draco had managed to get two words in before resigning himself to silence and listening to Butterworth drone on and on about the Cauldron Welding business. When he did pause for breath, he would leer suggestively and make not so subtle innuendos.

Draco was busy fantasising about slipping out through the restaurant's bathroom window when he felt a pudgy hand cover his own.

"I'm sure you'd like to see my family estate for yourself," Butterworth declared in a tone that suggested he wouldn't take a polite _no_ for an answer. "We shall retire to the Manor after dinner. I'm sure we can find," he paused and tightened his grip on Draco's hand, just a fraction, "some way to ahem..._occupy_ ourselves."

Draco swallowed audibly around a mouthful of butternut squash soup. His mind raced frantically, attempting to find a way, _any_ way out of this situation.

Obviously, that was the exact moment Harry Potter walked in to the restaurant.

"Potter!"

Draco was up and running before Potter even registered what was happening. His eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of Draco bolting towards him. Potter raised his hands in what may or may not have been an instinctive move for self defence but Draco was far too determined. He grabbed Potter by the shirt lapels and wrapped his arms around him in a tight, bruising hug.

"Get me out of this and I'll do anything you want," Draco hissed in his ear. "So help me Salazar, if you leave me with this lumbering oaf, I'll murder you in your sleep."

"Wha-?" Potter blurted.

Draco broke away from him with a too bright grin. "How _are_ you? It's been years!"

"Wha-?" Potter repeated, blinking rapidly. _Stupidly._

Draco refrained from kicking him in the shins and turned back to Butterworth. "Rufus, I'm sure you've heard of Harry Potter."

Butterworth looked less than pleased. "The Saviour," he droned. "An absolute pleasure."

Draco took the opportunity to drag Potter forward. Fortunately, the idiot was too shocked to resist...much. "We were at Hogwarts together," he explained, trying to appear as enthusiastic and upbeat as possible. "Potter here was one of my best friends!"

Potter regained his mental faculties in the face of that outrageous claim. "One of your _best_...are you out of yo-**ow!"**

Draco removed his elbow from Potter's midsection and slung an arm around him. "Best. Friend," he intoned as clearly and dangerously as he could. Potter was a complete imbecile but surely even _he_ could see what Draco was trying to do, couldn't he? Oh Merlin, what if Potter didn't play along? Draco wasn't sure he could stand another second alone with Butterworth.

"Actually," Potter began slowly, rubbing his side and shooting a half-glare in Draco's direction, "that's not quite true."

Draco's heart sank, right down his shoes.

Potter smiled brightly. "We were together for four years," he declared.

Draco blinked. "Wha-?" he managed, right before Potter slipped an arm around his waist and dragged him over.

"I see," Butterworth grumbled. "How...fortuitous that you should meet again. Here. Tonight."

"Isn't it?" Potter agreed happily. He turned back to Draco, still all smiles and sunshine, but those green eyes shone with evil glee. "Merlin, I've been planning to look you up for _ages._ Remember that one night on the Astronomy Tower? You were so drunk and you kept putting your hands in my..."

"Yes!" Draco blurted, hastening to cut Potter's mortifying monologue short. "Good...good times."

Potter's bright grin turned suggestive, not unlike Butterworth's. On Potter though, it looked sexy. Those deep green eyes and messy hair added to his rakish charm. Draco swallowed, completely caught off guard. How had Potter managed to turn the tables so easily? And exactly who was coming out ahead? Draco had a feeling it wasn't him.

"Well, it's a right shame I interrupted your date," Potter declared suddenly.

"Yes, well," Butterworth muttered ungraciously. "No harm done, I suppo..."

"So," Potter cut in, somewhat forcefully. "I'll be happy to pay for dinner. Feel free to stay as long you like. And don't worry about a thing, I'll personally see Draco home."

"Wha-" Butterworth began, but it was too late. Potter piled some Galleons on the table, slung an arm around Draco and spirited him away to safety. As soon as they were in a Butterworth free zone, he collapsed against a wall, practically rolling with laughter. Draco scowled as Potter had a fit right there on the street.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked dryly.

"Your face, Malfoy!" Potter choked out. "You should have seen your face!"

Draco rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, trying to ignore how the sight of Potter laughing seemed to make his stomach flutter. Rubbish. It was probably that butternut squash soup...

Eventually, Potter managed to get a handle on himself. "How did you get roped in with Butterball there?" he asked, eyes shining with mirth.

"Call it a momentary lapse of judgement," Draco sighed. "Anyway, I suppose I should thank you for your...timely intervention. Have a nice night, Potter. Try not to let the Knight Bus hit you on your way home."

He made to leave, only to be halted as Potter snagged his arm and pulled him back. Draco squeaked in surprise as he tumbled into Potter's chest. The latter took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist, herding him closer.

"Not so fast, Malfoy," Potter whispered in his ear. "You did promise me anything I wanted. Remember?"

Draco swallowed audibly. His eyelashes fluttered as Potter's grip on him tightened just a fraction, the slightest suggestion of force. The outline of those lips traced his ear again, leaving a trail of warm breath in its wake. It felt...good._Really_ good. For once, Draco was almost eager to hold up his end of a bargain.

"What do you want from me?" he murmured, leaning oh-so-subtly into the solid chest.

He felt Potter's grin against his skin. "I reckon you're done with dinner. How about some dessert instead?"


	147. Four Times Harry Was Late & One Time

**Prompt: Kiss at Midnight**

* * *

><p><strong>Year One:<strong>

On their first date, Harry was half an hour late. Draco had alternated between pacing outside the Leaky Cauldron, checking his watch, casting a Tempus Charm just to re-confirm that Potter was in fact, an entire _thirty minutes late_ and then finally, huffing and walking away.

"Malfoy, wait!"

Draco stilled for a second as the shout echoed down Diagon Alley. Then he quickened his pace. He may not be the man he was before the War, but he was still a Malfoy. And nobody kept a Malfoy waiting for half an hour, it simply wasn't done. Draco raised his chin defiantly and continued stalking down the street, ignoring Potter's entreaties.

"Damn it, Malfoy. Hold up a second!"

A hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him back. Draco pursed his lips as Potter let go, panting and holding his side. "You...can sure...walk fast...when you want to," Potter managed, shooting him a cheeky grin for good measure.

Draco crossed his arms. "I assume you have a good explanation."

He did, as a matter of fact. It was a beautifully crafted tale involving Teddy Lupin, a trampoline and an ill-positioned tree branch. Draco listened— with a growing sense of disbelief and incredulity— as Potter provided his bizarre explanation over the next fifteen minutes.

"Long story short, the Healer says I'll be fine," Potter finished, rubbing his head ruefully. "But Andromeda won't let us play Space Mountain anymore."

Draco blinked dazedly, attempting to formulate an appropriate response to that. There wasn't one "How about this?" he finally suggested. "The next time we do this, you explain yourself in less than ten words. And if it's good enough, I'll let it slide."

Potter gave it some thought. Then a small, shy grin tugged at his lips and he cocked his head. "So, there's going to be a next time?"

Draco rolled his eyes and resumed the walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, resolutely ignoring the way Potter's hopeful gaze made something in his chest flutter uncomfortably.

* * *

><p><strong>Year 3:<strong>

Draco would like to think that he was a patient man. Three years into their relationship, he was perfectly willing to accept that some things were just the way they were. Harry was always late. End of story. He could deal with that. Really, he could.

What he couldn't deal with was Harry being _three hours_ late. Especially, when he had begged and pleaded for Draco to cook dinner. Draco had just finished reheating the Chicken Parmigiana when he heard the banging at the front door.

"Open," he called.

Locking Harry out did not serve as a punishment. The man had been known to climb in through a fourth storey window to get at Draco's Chicken Parmigiana. No, it made a lot more sense to let Harry in so Draco could yell at him in peace and quiet.

"I'm dying to hear your excuse this time," he drawled as Harry shuffled in. "Mind you, you only get three words to explain yourself. One for every year we've been together. So you better make it good, Pot..."

He chanced a look up and the words withered away in his throat.

"Harry?" Draco whispered, abandoning the stove and hurrying over to his wrecked boyfriend. Harry didn't waste a second. The moment Draco was within grabbing reach, he wrapped his arms around him and curled into his chest. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry in return, holding him carefully and trying to tamp down his rising sense of alarm.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, running a calming hand down Harry's back.

"October thirty first," Harry whispered shakily. His grip on Draco tightened and the tears fell.

Oh.

Draco's heart clenched and he pulled Harry closer. "They loved you," he whispered. "They would have loved the man you've become."

"I wish..." Harry's breath came in a shudder but he managed to get the words out. "I wish they could have...met you."

Draco felt tears sting his own eyes. "Me too," he murmured.

Discreetly, he turned the stove off and led Harry to the bedroom. Dinner could wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Year Five:<strong>

"Honestly, where _is_ he?" Hermione grumbled, checking her watch again.

"It's Harry," Ron replied easily, forking into his pasta again. "He'll get here when he gets here."

Hermione did not think that served as an answer. She huffed in exasperation and turned to Malfoy. "Every time we do lunch, he's late. Doesn't it drive you mad?"

Malfoy shrugged and perused another page of _The Quibbler_, evidently not even a little bit bothered. "I'm used to it."

Hermione gave up and went back to scowling at her salad.

Ten minutes later, Harry bolted in, panting and holding his sides. His hair was a complete fright and he was sporting an inside out Falmouth Falcon's jersey.

"What in the..." Hermione began but Malfoy beat her to it.

"Five words," he said calmly, turning another page. "Go."

Harry paused and deliberated over that with absolute solemnity. When he spoke again, it was the oddest assortment of words Hermione had ever heard from someone who wasn't Albus Dumbledore.

"Falcons. Backflip. _Awesome._ Broom. Barbeque?"

Hermione stared, speechless for once. Ron nudged her and whispered, "I think he's having a stroke."

Malfoy however, merely shrugged and pulled out another chair. "Acceptable," he said. Harry grinned and reached over for a kiss.

"I'm sorry," Hermione ventured carefully. "What just happened?"

Malfoy pulled away from Harry. "He lost track of time because he was watching the Falmouth Falcons in the League Semi Finals," he explained with terse efficiency. "The Seeker caught the Snitch on a backflip, which was completely awesome. Then he remembered he was supposed to meet us here and the Floo was broken so he changed in a hurry— by the way, love, your jersey's inside out— and then he flew down here. Oh, and he's still hungry so can we get barbeque in a bit?"

Harry frowned. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Ron stared at both of them for two entire minutes before deciding his pasta was more important. Hermione shook her head wearily and turned to Harry.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," she informed him, "but you're lucky to have him."

Harry grinned and pulled Draco in for another kiss. "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>Year Six:<strong>

**"I've got lube! Let's have sex!"**

An awkward, mortified silence settled in the room as Harry barged in. Draco gaped in soundless horror, the china teacup hanging limply in his grasp. Sitting beside him, his mother raised an amused eyebrow.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," Narcissa greeted with a smile. "How wonderful to see you again."

Harry practically crumpled with mortification as she got up and kissed a still shell-shocked Draco's cheek. "I'd best be off, darling," she said. "Your father is waiting and it would seem you two have...plans of your own."

She paused and patted Harry's cheek, shaking her head in fond exasperation. "Do learn to be on time, young man."

And with that, she was gone.

Draco sagged in the chair and held his head in his hands. Harry shuffled awkwardly in the doorway.

"So that's a _no_ for the sex?"

He wasn't the least bit surprised at the teacup sailing straight for his head.

* * *

><p><strong>Year Nine:<strong>

Draco smiled to himself and checked the clock again.

It was midnight.

Harry of course, was late— a fitting start to their anniversary.

Nine years, Draco thought to himself. It had really been nine years since that one night when he stood outside the Leaky Cauldron, listening to Harry's absurd excuses. Nine years since the first sheepish half smile, the first hesitant kiss, the first whispered _I love you_.

So many firsts— and yet some things hadn't changed one bit. Draco was still here, waiting for Harry to come home with a bizarre explanation for why he was late.

In nine words, no less.

He chuckled to himself when the door clicked open. Harry walked in, with his messy hair and his half smile— the smile that always made Draco's heart twist a little.

He reached over and pulled Harry in for a kiss. "Happy Anniversary," he murmured. "Nine words. Go."

Harry deepened the kiss for a moment, and pulled away. "It took a while to find the perfect one," he whispered softly.

Draco frowned and started to ask what that was supposed to mean, when he felt something being pressed into his hand. The ring was a simple platinum band— classic elegance that spoke to him. Draco stared at it in complete shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Harry held his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, his green eyes filled with tentative hope.

"Marry me," he said softly. "One word. Go."

Tears stung Draco's eyes. His vision blurred and his hands shook and a lump swelled up in his throat. But that one word, that one _yes _escaped him before he could even think about laughed in sheer delight and pulled him over and kissed him soundly on the lips, at the last stroke of midnight.

In that moment, Draco knew that this was just the beginning. There would be a thousand moments that Harry would be late yet again, a thousand other times when he would burst through the door and a thousand other times that Draco would have to sit and suffer through his ridiculous excuses.

And thank Merlin for that.


	148. A Little Push

**Written for the prompt: Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with?" **

**Warning(s): Heavy Flangst. Okay, it's angst. But there's a happy ending! Also, I missed you guys! *glomps***

* * *

><p>Harry took a deep swing from his glass, wincing as the Firewhisky burned all the way down his throat. But he didn't stop, couldn't stop drinking. If he stopped, he would have to go home...<p>

...back to a home without Draco in it.

He scowled at the direction his thoughts had taken. The idea was to forget Draco, not pine over the insufferable git. Harry slammed the glass on the counter, not particularly caring if it cracked or not.

"One more," he called to the barkeep, hating the harsh, hoarse croak of his voice. The man raised an sceptical eyebrow but slid another glass of whisky over without a word. Over the course of two hours, most of the patrons had learned to keep their distance from Harry.

Which was why when someone slid into the stool right next to him, he was understandably annoyed.

"Move it," he muttered, glaring into the depths of his glass. "I'm waiting on someone."

"Oh, thank you. It's kind of you to save me a seat, Harry."

Harry jumped at the direct address, sloshing his whisky all over the counter.

Arthur Weasley tutted and pulled out his wand, Vanishing the mess with a discreet spell. "As a general rule, I try not to drink alone," he commented lightly. "Of course, that's just me but if you don't mind..."

He waved the barkeep over and ordered a drink— a decisively non-alcoholic Butterbeer. Harry sulked in silence, trying not to feel like a sulky teenager who'd been caught smoking in the garage by his father. That being said, Arthur didn't seem to be in any hurry to lecture him. He was probably waiting for the right moment.

Why bother, Harry thought angrily. It wasn't like it would change a damn thing. Draco was gone. He'd been halfway through his packing when Harry had stormed out of their flat.

He would have left by now.

It was over. It was really over.

And all because of the stupid, _stupid_ things he'd said, things he could never take back...

Harry felt his eyes prickle. His fist tightened around the glass and he shook his head angrily. No use crying over spilt potion. His relationship was done for and humouring Arthur wasn't going to change a damn thing. Really, he should just leave before he embarrassed himself.

"We got into another fight."

The words escaped him before he could stop himself. Damn it! Harry cursed a blue streak in his head and waited for the barrage of sympathy, pity and well meaning if ultimately useless advice Arthur would inevitably offer.

"Ah," Arthur replied noncommittally. He lifted his shoulder in a careless shrug and took a swig of Butterbeer. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised."

Harry winced. It sounded even worse when someone else said it. But then, everyone knew he and Draco hadn't had the most stable relationship. Truly, it was a wonder they'd lasted this long. "He's moving out," he murmured. "Tonight."

Arthur hummed approvingly. "So there is some good news after all."

Harry stared, certain he had heard wrong. Surely Arthur hadn't just...? Harry couldn't help but feel a little hurt. When he had first announced his relationship to his extended family, Arthur had been the voice of reason. He had calmed Ron's ire with a few stern words, gently suggested that sons were not responsible for the sins of their fathers and promised Harry he would always be family no matter what. And now, it turned out that Arthur had been rooting for him to fail too.

That...somehow, that _really_ hurt.

"You don't seem surprised," Harry remarked.

"I'm not," Arthur said. "It was going to happen eventually. You two were all wrong for each other."

Harry felt the blood rush to his head. The voices in the bar dimmed. For a moment, the sheer shock of Arthur's words was all that registered. "And you've always felt this way?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"I've upset you." Arthur clicked his tongue in sympathy. "It's nothing personal, Harry. It's just...I _assumed_ you would see sense eventually, but I suppose that Malfoy boy had his claws in deep. Still, all's well that ends well. This was for the best, I assure you. In time, you'll see that..."

"Wait, just...hold on." Harry staggered to his feet unsteadily. He lurched and Arthur grabbed his shoulder to steady him, but Harry shook him off. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. How could Arthur— kind, genial, good natured Arthur— say such awful, unfeeling things? Draco was not perfect, but he had certainly never 'had his claws' in Harry. And no matter what the state of his relationship, no matter how angry and hurt he was, Harry couldn't just stand there and take this. Draco deserved better than this. His _relationship_ deserved better than this.

"You're way out of line," he informed Arthur coldly. "Draco is a good person and I _know_ what we had was real. I can't believe this, Arthur. I thought you understood!"

"Oh, come now, Harry. Be reasonable. You can't expect me to believe that..."

"I _do_ expect you to believe it!" Harry practically snarled. People were staring at him now; he could hear whispers in the crowd. But he didn't care. He was angry— angry and betrayed and _hurt _by the man he thought of as a father. "I _expect_you to believe that Draco is the best thing that ever happened to me! He's thoughtful and kind and generous and...and if you can't see that, if you can't see what he means to me..."

"Then why are you letting him go?"

Harry's rant came to an abrupt halt. Arthur turned to look at him and those kind, blue eyes were dead serious. Harry's ire dissipated and his shoulders slumped. The misery overtook him again and he slumped back on the stool. "I don't know," he whispered.

Arthur chuckled and patted his back gently. "Oh, Harry. Sometimes, it's like you never stopped being seventeen. Both of you."

Harry smiled weakly. "It's not easy. Some days I love him so much it hurts. And other days..."

"And other days, you fight," Arthur finished. "You fight and you say hurtful things and you get hurt back. It happens all the time, Harry. But that doesn't mean you get to pack it in when things get tough."

"But they're really tough," Harry mumbled miserably, fully aware that he sounded like an angsting teenager. "And I just...I don't know if we can pull through this time, Arthur. I really don't."

Arthur seemed to agree, because the hand on Harry's shoulder tightened firmly. "Well, that's too bad, because you don't have a choice."

"But..."

"Harry, do you love this boy?"

He wanted to deny it. In that moment, he wanted to look Arthur right in the eye and say he didn't, that Draco meant nothing to him, that he just needed a little time and he would move on with his life.

"So much," he mumbled instead. "And just the thought of him leaving breaks my heart, Arthur. I don't know if I can keep going on without him."

Arthur smiled and pulled him in for a hug. "Well, let's hope you don't have to find out. It's not too late to fix this, Harry."

Harry clung to him like his life depended on it. "But what if we fight again?" he demanded. "What if this happens all over again and I'm too late?"

"Harry, unless I'm gravely mistaken— and mind you, that rarely happens— Draco loves you too. It's right there in his eyes, every time he looks at you. In my experience, something like that doesn't just go away."

Harry had no idea how much he'd needed to hear those words. Tears stung his eyes and his grip on Arthur tightened. "But we always fight," he whispered. "Why do we always fight if we're so perfect for each other?"

"Oh, my boy." Arthur ruffled his hair gently. "Love is...love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with?" He smiled and tightened his hold on Harry. "Trust me, you'll be just fine."

"What if he doesn't want me back?"

Honestly, after the fight they'd had, he wouldn't be surprised if Draco never wanted to see him again.

But Arthur just chuckled and patted his back. "Go home, Harry. Trust me on this. You'll work this out."

* * *

><p>Harry had never felt this nervous about walking into his own flat before. So he just stood outside, trying to bolster a scrap of good, old fashioned Gryffindor courage. The moment he turned the door knob, he would know. Either Draco would be on the other side of that door...<p>

...or he wouldn't.

Harry swallowed around a lump in his throat, turned the door knob and walked in.

Draco's head jerked up at the sound. He was sitting on the couch, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched. His eyes were red-rimmed. A single suitcase stood next to him, still packed but apparently untouched.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. A part of him just wanted to break down and sob with relief, another part wanted to call Arthur right this second and thank him profusely and yet another part just wanted to run over and grab Draco and never let him go ever again.

"I thought you left," he whispered.

"Couldn't," Draco replied dully. "I tried, believe me. But I just...couldn't." He raised his chin and glared at Harry defiantly. "If you want me to leave, I'm afraid you're going to have to throw me out, Potter."

Harry managed a choked laugh. "I guess that's one way to go. Shall I start with the suitcase?"

Draco sneered and stood up, apparently intending to hex him. It was as good a chance as he was going to get. Harry reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a sound kiss.

Draco fought him. He snarled into the kiss, tried to shove Harry off and when that failed, he bit. Hard. Harry withstood the abuse with stoic determination. It was this or letting Draco go, and the latter wasn't an option. Arthur had made that extremely clear. They couldn't _live_ without each other and if it took Harry a lifetime to convince the idiot of that simple, irrefutable fact then so be it. So, he held on with everything he had, responding to Draco's onslaught with gentle kisses and tender touches.

Fortunately, it didn't take that long. Eventually, Draco gave out. Harry felt the moment the fight went out of his furious lover. Draco went slack and wrapped his arms around Harry, silent tears streaming down his face as he finally, _finally_returned the kiss.

"I've got you," Harry promised thickly, holding him close. "I've got you, Draco. I love you."

"Love you too," Draco managed through shuddering sobs. "Never again, please. Please..."

"Shh," Harry whispered, running a gentle hand through his hair. "I can't promise we won't fight again. Because we will, Draco— you know we will."

Draco sniffed and tightened his hold but he didn't argue.

"But I promise," Harry continued, "I promise I'll never let you leave again. Whatever happens, I swear we'll work it out. I won't let you go. I won't let this go."

"I won't let you," Draco replied fiercely. "I _won't_. You can't leave me...because if...if you do, I'm not...I don't think I can..."

"Shh," Harry broke in, soothing him with gentle hands and quiet murmurs of affection. "I'm here. I'm yours forever, yeah?"

"Forever," Draco mumbled in agreement. His grip slackened and his shoulders relaxed. He sighed and burrowed into Harry's chest.

Harry smiled softly and gathered up his exhausted lover. It would be okay. They were going to be okay.

"Come on," he whispered, leading Draco to the bedroom. "Let's go home."

* * *

><p>Arthur returned to his own home of twenty five years in a better mood than he'd left it in. Molly glanced up from her knitting as he entered. Her warm, brown eyes lit up on seeing him and as always, the sight made Arthur smile.<p>

"Did you talk to him?" she asked.

Arthur leaned over to give her a chaste kiss. "He's a smart lad," he told her. "He just needed a little push."

"Thank Merlin." Molly sighed in relief. "Those two are lost without each other."

Arthur sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I know the feeling."

Molly smiled and smacked his arm gently, but she didn't refute a word he'd said. Why would she? She had been there too. She had been right alongside with him, as they made their way from a fluttering romance to a commitment so strong, that not even the Fates themselves could shake its foundations.

Sometimes, even the best relationships floundered. Everyone needs a little help now and then. But Arthur Weasley had enough love in his life to know it when he saw it— and he saw it clear as day, when those boys looked at each other. They would be just fine, he was sure of it.

All they needed was a little push.


	149. Whipped

**Prompts: Ron's birthday, orange**

**Warning(s): Immature boys are immature, some strong language**

* * *

><p>Harry woke up to a splitting headache with the aftertaste of Firewhisky and questionable life choices in his mouth. As he rolled on his side and keened in abject misery, he vaguely noticed that this was definitely not his bed.<p>

Or his bedroom.

Or his house.

"Where 'm I?" he moaned miserably.

"Stop yellin' at me," someone grumbled from the foot of the bed.

Harry blinked groggily as Ron unearthed himself from the blankets, looking like death warmed over. His orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt was inside out and his ear was pierced. "Okay," Ron mumbled, gazing blearily at the trashed room. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this is not good."

"You think?" Harry groaned, swiping a hand over his face. "What the hell happened?"

It was coming back to him now. He had been at a party last night. Ron's birthday party? Yeah, that sounded right. And Ron...Ron had been freaking out over turning thirty...

_"__Thirty!" Ron moaned dramatically, sloshing his whisky around. "I'm turnin' thirty, Harry. My life's over!"_

_"__S'okay, mate," Harry slurred, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "You had a good run."_

_Ron grumbled a bit about unhelpful best friends and shite pep-talks. Then his eyes lit up. "I have an idea."_

_"__Whassat?"_

_"__Get your coat, Harry. We're going on a road trip!"_

**"****You!"**

In hindsight, yelling was a mistake. Harry staggered like a pile of bricks and Ron whimpered and curled up in a ball of pain and misery. By the time they recovered, Harry was glaring daggers at his best friend.

"You did this," he hissed. "You ran out on your own birthday party! And you took me with you!"

Draco was so going to kill him for this.

"Oi!" Ron snapped, sitting up indignantly. "Don't put this on me! I had just turned thirty. I was in a very sensitive place!"

"Speaking of sensitive places," Harry commented, eyeing Ron's ear stud sceptically. "That _is_ the only piercing you got, right?"

Ron covered himself up with a blanket. "Save your leering for Malfoy."

Draco. Harry moaned and held his head in his hands at the mention of his boyfriend. "He's going to murder me for this."

Ron coughed a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'whipped'. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Did you say something?" he demanded.

"No offence, mate." Ron shrugged. "But Malfoy has your cock in a vice."

"How is that not offensive?!"

"Now me," Ron went on. "Mione knows I'm my own man. I can walk out on my own party, go on a road trip and get a piercing and that's just how it is. It's about managing expectations, Harry. I..."

Harry snarled and shoved angrily at him. "For your information, Draco and I have a very healthy relationship!"

"He's got you on a leash!"

"He does not!" Harry yelled indignantly. "I'm my own man too, you git! I can do whatever I want, whenever I want and I don't need Draco's permission for..."

"Oh, _do_ continue, Potter. I can't wait to hear how this turns out."

Harry's eyes widened. Ron yelped in alarm, got tangled in his blankets and went crashing to the ground.

Draco raised an unimpressed eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. "Go on," he drawled. "I'm waiting."

"Draco." Harry scrambled up at once. "I..."

He trailed off as his boyfriend took a menacing step towards him. "Do you," Draco hissed menacingly, "have _any_ idea how worried I've been?"

Harry shrank back. "I was just..."

"I spent all night looking for you!" Draco snarled. "And here you are, trashed out of your mind in a hotel room with the Weasel! Of all the juvenile, irresponsible..."

"I know. I'm sorry, love. I just..."

"You're _sorry?_ Sorry doesn't cover it! We are going home right now! I'm leaving and I'll expect you to join me in ten minutes! And hurry up! I haven't got all day."

Harry sighed wearily and ducked his head. "Yes, dear."

Ron side-stepped obligingly, giving Draco ample room to storm out. He snickered as Harry shot him a filthy look.

"Oh no," he teased. "You're not whipped at _all."_

"Shut up," Harry grumbled, shoving at him as he trudged off.

Ron chortled triumphantly. "Hey, owl me when you find your balls, yeah? Check the vice in Malfoy's closet!"

"By the way, Weasley," Malfoy's voice drifted in suddenly. "Your wife is downstairs."

**"****Ronald Bilius Weasley!"**

Ron blanched.


	150. Harry Potter and the Vexed Viper

**Written for the prompt: Snake eyes**

* * *

><p><em>And then they put me in a box! In a box, Potter!<em>

Harry pursed his lips and fought the surge of laughter building in his gut. Draco was obviously upset and poking fun at him would be wrong. Not to mention unsafe— he was exceptionally poisonous at the moment.

_Sstupid Kingssley, _Draco hissed as he slithered angrily over the desk again. Harry hadn't known that snakes could pace, but Draco seemed to manage well enough. _Itss revenge. Revenge, I tell you! He givess me these ridiculouss asssignments on purpossse!_

"I'm sure that's not true," Harry hissed back reasonably. This was one of the reasons he enjoyed Draco's Animagus form so much. It gave him ample opportunity to brush up on his Parseltongue. And he had to admit, Draco was certainly a better conversationalist than most of the snakes he'd come across.

_Sstop defending him,_ Draco complained. His scales were raised and pointed, a clear indication that he was agitated. Too bad Harry just thought he looked adorable. Draco's sinuous body was a beautiful stark green against the mahogany of the desk, with bright snake eyes and a forked tongue that poked out now and then to taste the air. His scales were long and pointed, giving him an almost furry appearance. Draco was glowering at him— apparently snakes could pace _and_glower— and it just added to Harry's mental image of a very petulant, very angry little bush viper.

It was all he could do not to pick up his partner and coo at him.

_I'm upsset, Potter, _Draco sulked. _Very upssset!_

Right. Clearly, this situation required damage control. It was either that or risking an entire afternoon of Draco hissing agitatedly in his ear or dropping off high places in front unsuspecting Aurors just for kicks. Fortunately, Harry had some amount of experience in this field.

"I can see that," he replied, discreetly summoning a Quill. "But I seriously doubt Kingsley put you on that case for anything other than professional reasons." He waved the Quill casually as he spoke, suppressing a grin as Draco locked on to it and instinctively swayed with the motion. "You're the most skilled Animagus on the team," Harry continued, keeping his tone calm and soothing. "And his faith in you paid off, didn't it? You successfully infiltrated that animal trafficking ring."

_I ssaved those dragon hatchlingss from a fate worse than death, _Draco agreed proudly. Harry chuckled fondly and stroked his head gently with one finger. Draco twisted around his wrist and slithered up his arm, settling in the crook of his neck.

"See?" Harry grinned. "You're a hero."

_Itss overrated, _Draco informed him. His forked tongue touched Harry's collar bone, making him shiver. It was still pleasant though. Draco felt warm against his skin and the sensation of his serpentine form draped over Harry's neck was...soothing somehow.

_File my report for me, _Draco hissed drowsily. _I'm going to ssleep._

Harry just chuckled and picked up the Quill again.


	151. SHAG and MOAN

**Prompts: _Be mischievous, it feels good _and _Harry/Draco in a bunny suit._**

**Warning(s): Suggestive language (AKA Draco's crap acronyms).**

* * *

><p>Draco cleared his throat, smoothed down his robes and took an authoritative stand at the podium. He cast a discreet<em>Sonorus<em> and pounded the gavel.

"The first annual meeting of BDSM will now come to order."

The chattering in the Slytherin Common Room died down. Several older students turned a blasphemous shade of Gryffindor Red. Mercifully, the first years just looked lost.

It was Theo who raised a tentative hand. "I thought we agreed on a name change at the last meeting?"

Draco cast an exasperated glance in his general direction. "It's called the Bureau of Devious Slytherins for Mischief, Theo_._ What do you suggest I call it?"

"Well..."

"Moving on!" Draco interrupted as he indulged in some more gratuitous gavel banging. Pansy winced and rubbed her temples discreetly. "As I was saying," Draco continued grandly, "the first order of business is our Bi-monthly Performance Review. I think I can speak for all members of the BDSM community..."

Blaise disguised his snort of laughter with a cough.

"...when I thank Lawrence Fitzberger for last week's illuminating presentation on _The Use of Puking Pastilles on Unsuspecting Hufflepuffs_. At last check, their Common Room was still deemed unfit for residence. Give it up for Lawrence, everyone."

The Third Year student smiled tentatively amidst a smattering of applause.

"However," Draco called over the clapping, "you lose points for using a Weasley Wizarding Wheezes product. Make a note of that. BDSM is all about a quality experience. Shoddy, second hand equipment is not acceptable_._"

"His words," Pansy muttered. Theo just groaned and held his head in his hands.

"Now, to business." Draco stepped away from the podium and took to pacing the small stage with long, meaningful strides. "This year, we have a mission. SHAG is coming up and..."

Blaise rudely interrupted by choking on a sip of water. Draco paused to glare balefully at him.

"I'm sorry, I might have a missed a memo or two," a Second Year broke in politely, "SHAG is...?"

"Slytherin's Historic Annual Gag-fest, of course," Draco elaborated with a put upon sigh. Theo dissolved in a heap of muttering in his chair. Draco ignored him. "Honestly, am I the only one who reads the notices on the meeting board?"

"Salazar help us, he's worse than Granger," Blaise whispered to Pansy.

Pansy's response was drowned out by the gavel.

"As I was saying," Draco recommenced in a tone that suggested that the next interruption would be the last one, "we haven't selected this year's lucky target yet. I have taken the liberty of putting together a small list of vict—er,_participants_ for us to focus our talents on. The first name on the list is..."

"Potter," Pansy whispered.

"Potter," Theo agreed morosely.

"Potter!" Draco announced. "Shall we take a vote?"

"Didn't we prank Potter last year?" a brunette from Fourth Year asked.

"No," Draco replied crisply. "You're mistaken."

"But I remember..."

"Potter it is!" Draco declared. "Now, since we're all in agreement that the pompous, pretentious, self appointed _git_ needs to be taken down a notch, I suggest we move on to designing a prank of epic proportions. I'm talking stuff of legends here. Abject humiliation! Pain and misery! A..."

"Well, gosh Draco," Pansy deadpanned. "What ever do you have in mind?"

Draco favoured her with a sharp grin and steepled his hands. "I'm so glad you asked, Pansy. Here's how it's going down..."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, the meeting was adjourned and the students filed out obediently.<p>

Pansy brushed past a festive banner (_Be mischievous! It feels __**so**__ good_) and joined Theo as he made a harried beeline for the exit.

"This is fantastic!" a First Year declared happily as he ran past them. "I'm so glad I got into BDSM!"

His friend shrugged. "Seems like a lot of talk to me. I think I'll sign up for MOAN instead. You know, Malfoy's Ornithological Appreciation Night?"

Pansy rolled her eyes as Theo banged his head against a wall.

Repeatedly.

* * *

><p><strong>"<strong>**MALFOY!" **

Several students skittered out of the way as a cackling Draco careened down the corridor, relentlessly pursued by a giant rabbit.

"You insufferable git!" Potter howled, doing his level best to hoppity-skippety after Draco in the elaborate costume. His bunny ears flopped flaccidly against his forehead. "I'll kill you, you..."

Ultimately, Draco's luck ran out and he found himself cornered in an alcove. Potter loomed over him menacingly, one velvet paw wrapped around his wand. His breath was coming in harsh pants and his green eyes flashed dangerously. Draco swallowed. Trust Potter to look all dangerous and sexy even when clad in a giant rabbit's costume.

"Care to explain why all my robes are missing and replaced with _this_?" Potter demanded, brandishing his wand angrily. "What the bleeding hell?"

"Congratulations, Pothead!" Draco grinned, throwing his arms out in a grand gesture. "You just got SHAGGED!"

Potter stopped short. His nose twitched with sudden surprise. In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Draco did not point out just how rabbit-y he looked. He did double up with laughter though. "Oh, this is good," he managed between chuckles. "I've been trying to get you for a SHAG for ages!"

Potter's brow drew down in a thoughtful frown. "Is that so?" he contested, crossing his paws— _arms_— and levelling Draco with an even look. "There are other ways to get my attention, you know."

"Don't think so," Draco argued. "We covered everything in BDSM and this was the best way forward. You understand, of course. All in good fun."

This time, Potter just looked gobsmacked. "You're into _that?!_"

He sounded appalled. Also, a little intrigued.

"Of course I am," Draco scoffed. "President of the local chapter, thank you very much."

"Oh," Potter mumbled in a small voice. He shook his head, making his ears flop about again. "Merlin, you think you know a bloke..."

What was that about? Draco frowned at Potter's mumbling and shook his head. He had things to do anyway. "Well, I should go," he declared, straightening his rumpled robes and slipping around Potter easily. "No time to waste and all. I'll file a report and then it's off to MOAN."

"Moan?" Potter repeated helplessly. He really did look like a poor, lost bunny.

"You should come," Draco offered, magnanimous as always. "I'm accepting new applications. I'll bet you'd be a great MOANER."

Potter took a few seconds to process that. "You take applications for...you know what, never mind. How about we take this slow?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.

Potter shuffled his bunny feet and scratched his ear awkwardly. "How about a date first?" he offered tentatively. "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

Oh. Well, this was new.

"I don't see the harm," Draco agreed slowly. "I'll bring the initiation manual."

Potter's eyes widened and for a second he looked like he was having second thoughts. But then he flashed Draco a tentative smile. "Well, they don't call me a Gryffindor for nothing. See you next weekend, Malfoy. I...look forward to it."

With that, they departed from the corridor. Pansy emerged from the shadows, accompanied by a rather mutinous Theo.

"Should we tell him?" she asked. "_Someone_ should tell him."

"You do it," Theo grumbled, trudging off in the other direction. "I'm late for my SPEW meeting."


End file.
